A Rain Cloud in a Stormy Sky
by AmberPaladin
Summary: All Ivy wanted was a break and a little freedom. She didn't expect to end up working for a group of elite assassins under the command of the most feared man in the Mafia… (Fem!Harry)
1. Chapter 1

A quick disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn or Harry Potter.

Chapter 1

The warm summer night blanketed Privet Drive, silent and still. In the smallest bedroom of number 4, a teenage girl slowly eased herself out of the ball she had curled up in on the bed.

Ivy-Rose Potter was already having a bad summer. She hadn't even been back from Hogwarts a week and Vernon had already beaten her bloody over some perceived slight. Sitting up, she hissed as the action pulled at the raw wounds. Vernon had used the belt, leaving her much worse off than usual. If this was what he was doing to her at the very start of summer, she didn't want to think about what might happen when he decided to escalate. Ivy wasn't going to stick around and find out; she was getting out of here as soon as she could stand up properly.

Decision made, Ivy slid off the bed and reached underneath to pull up the loose floorboards that concealed her hidey-hole. From inside she pulled out the Charmed leather satchel she had purchased the summer before third year, which was significantly bigger inside than it looked. The bag contained all of her important wizarding items such as her invisibility cloak; the Marauders Map; her Gringotts key; her Firebolt; and the photo album Hagrid had given her at the end of first year. Using the bedside table to ease herself upright, she pulled on a fresh t-shirt over her current one to hide the marks that had bled through the material and started throwing clothes into the bag. Catching sight of her wand out of the corner of her eye, Ivy paused. Part of her wanted to take the wand with her; a much larger part told her to leave it behind. Her wand still had the Trace on it – would until she was seventeen – so it wasn't like having it would be any help, since she couldn't use it outside of school. Giving the Ministry any kind of ammunition against her was a really bad idea right now. It was also a way Dumbledore could potentially track her and drag her back here, like he had done after she fled to Luna's house for two weeks the previous summer. No, the wand would stay here, and the little bit of her mind that was whimpering about not having her main weapon on her would shut up. It wasn't like she was completely defenceless without it.

A hoot from the chest of drawers drew her attention to the other problem. What to do with Hedwig? She couldn't take the owl with her. Ivy was planning on hiding in the muggle world and a snowy owl flying after her would attract unwanted attention of the official kind. She wouldn't be able to take proper care of her feathered friend either. Reaching into her bag for paper and a pen, Ivy quickly scribbled out notes for Sirius, Luna, and Neville, explaining the situation.

"I can't take you with me girl, so I'm sending you to Luna's house. You'll be safe there. The notes are for Sirius, Neville, and Luna, in that order. Be good for Luna and Xeno good while I'm gone, OK?" Ivy said quietly, tying the notes onto Hedwig's leg. The owl hooted softly in reply and flew out of the open window. Ivy watched her go until the owl vanished into the night. Slinging the bag strap across her body, she hissed quietly as the leather settled against her back, pressing on her injuries through her t-shirt. Ivy crept over to the door. Hopefully Vernon hadn't locked her in, or she would have to go out the window.

Finding the door unlocked, Ivy silently descended the stairs and slipped to the kitchen for food. The Dursleys could easily spare what she had taken; it wasn't like they would notice anything amiss, or they would think Dudley had raided the kitchen for a midnight snack. Satisfied she had everything she needed to make good her escape, she headed towards the front door. The front door was locked, but Vernon always left his car keys on a hook by the door. Unlocking the door was the work of a moment. Giving in to the little imp of mischief, Ivy removed the house key, replaced the car keys in their normal place, re-locked the door from the outside and hid the house key under the rose bushes.

A snore from the nearby bushes made her jump. Ivy froze. Another snore came from the same direction, followed shortly by another. There wasn't anyone in sight, so whoever was snoring in the Dursleys' front garden was either disillusioned or using an invisibility cloak. Ivy hurried up the driveway, pulling her own cloak from her bag. The hidden watcher wouldn't stay asleep forever and their presence meant she needed to get far away from here as fast as possible. Where to though? London would be a good start, but she couldn't stay there; it would be one of the first places Dumbledore would look. Staying in the country with both the Ministry and Voldemort out for her blood – as well as trying to avoid being shipped back to the Dursleys by the old coot – would be difficult, even if she stuck to the muggle side. Maybe she could go to France? She could use her cloak to sneak on the trains to London and Dover, and from there get on the ferry to Calais; the second part would be a bit tricky, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. On second thoughts, it might be worth risking a late-night trip to Gringotts first and seeing if the goblins could help her leave the country. Yes, a holiday in France sounded lovely.

With a swirl of silvery material, Ivy-Rose Potter vanished from Privet Drive.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Getting to Gringotts in the middle of the night by muggle means was a little tricky but well worth it. The goblins were able to provide Ivy with a self-updating passport that would pass both magical and muggle inspection for a fee of twenty-five galleons and provided her with a booklet containing the location and access instructions for various wizarding areas in Europe for an extra sickle. Parting with a further three galleons gained her a money bag which could only be opened by the witch it was magically keyed to. She then exchanged her Galleons to pounds sterling for a small fee – she could change half of it to francs in Dover or Calais – and deposited her Firebolt in her trust vault for safe keeping. It was a rather expensive trip to the bank, but well worth every Knut.

Her business with the goblins concluded, Ivy made her way back through Diagon Alley and into muggle London, where she found a decent looking all-night café to wait for the first train from St Pancreas station to Dover.

There was a brief tense moment when she boarded the first available ferry to Calais. One of the border guards was curious about why a teenager would be travelling alone so early in the morning. Ivy was able to come up with a somewhat plausible excuse about boarding school, a sick grandparent, and her parents having gone on ahead, which satisfied the guard's curiosity.

Once in Calais she travelled onward to Paris, again by train, where she planned to spend two weeks exploring the magical and mundane sides of the city and enjoying her first ever holiday.

Naturally, everything went wrong five days in.

Ivy wasn't quite sure how she had ended up in this situation. She had gone for a walk to help clear her head of the dark thoughts and recurring nightmares, a habit she had picked up after the events of second year. At some point she had wandered away from the main thoroughfares and was now cornered in a narrow back street by a group of young men, some of them barely out of their teens. One of the men leered at her.

"Hello pretty girl. Want to come and have some fun?" He asked in French. The way he was eyeing her made it very clear the kind of fun he had in mind.

"Not interested." She replied in the same language, glaring at him. Ivy had learned French back in third year, having discovered magical language learning kits while browsing Diagon Alley after Vernon kicked her out for the Aunt Marge Incident. The kits allowed a person to learn a language fluently in three months for languages that used a Latin alphabet and four months for those that didn't, with just a few hours of study a week. Ivy had taken advantage of her discovery to learn French, Italian, German, and Japanese over the past two years.

The men didn't take her refusal well. One of the younger ones pulled out a knife. Ivy looked at the knife and then back at the men. Clearly, she wouldn't be leaving without a fight. She shifted her stance a little wider and glared at the men. The first man who had spoken to her sneered. "Grab her."

The men closed in as more knives were drawn from their hiding places.

Ivy's eyes glowed purple.

* * *

Squalo Superbi was leading his squad back to the hotel after a successful job when he felt a strong burst of Cloud Flames nearby. He stopped and looked in the direction the Flame signature had come from.

"Captain," Mirage, the squad's Mist, said, looking in the same direction.

"Voi, I feel it." Squalo replied as he started heading towards the Active Cloud Flames. They needed to prevent the Cloud were from violating omerta, preferably before the Vindice showed up. Getting caught using Flames in the back streets of Paris wouldn't do anyone any favours.

A young man stumbled out of the narrow side street the Flame signature was coming from, quickly followed by two others.

"Demon! She's a demon!"

"Run!"

The terrified trio ran off down the street. Squalo turned to Mirage. There could be no civilian witnesses. Mirage nodded in understanding and vanished from sight. Squalo carefully stepped into the side street just in time to see a skinny teenage girl with glowing violet eyes jump up and slam a man's head into the nearest wall, causing the man to drop his knife and fall to the ground. That was one pissed off Cloud. He could tell she had no combat training, but her Flame control wasn't bad. The girl scanned the street, coming to rest on him. Her eyes faded from luminous purple to a vivid green and she looked down, only now noticing the bloody beaten men at her feet.

"_Merde." _She swore in English-accented French.

"Come with me and I'll make sure you don't get in any trouble for this, voi," Squalo said.

The girl eyed him suspiciously.

"How?"

"We have ways of making them forget."

"Bribery, drugs, or murder?" The girl asked; she obviously had some idea how the world worked.

"None of the above. We have a different way – one that doesn't leave traceable evidence behind," Squalo replied. The girl's face remained carefully blank, though he could tell from the feel of her Flames she was intrigued. She looked down at the fallen men at her feet contemplatively.

"Alright. I accept your offer."

"Follow me then, Brindille."

Squalo turned and headed back out of the alley, smirking slightly when the Cloud muttered "That's not my name" before following him.

* * *

"Umm, mister?"

Squalo looked down at the new recruit as they entered the hotel suite the squad was using during their stay in Paris. "Call me Captain."

"Captain. Why did you help me?" Brindille asked.

Squalo gestured for her to sit on the sofa. "Take a seat, voi. This'll take some explaining."

Once they were both seated comfortably, Squalo set up some discreet Flame security against bugs and eavesdroppers and began his explanation by calling up a handful of Rain Flames in his right hand. "These are called Dying Will Flames, voi. There are seven types, each with a different colour and ability; mine are Rain Flames, which have the property of Tranquillity. You also have Active Flames – that's how we found you."

"I've never summoned blue fire before. Mine's violet," Brindille said, eyeing his Flames with interest.

Squalo extinguished the blue flames. "That's because you're not a Rain primary, voi. You have Cloud Flames, which are violet. Cloud Flames are the second rarest type of Flame, with the property of Propagation or Multiplication."

"Which is why I get stronger and faster when I call on them."

Squalo nodded. Brindille remained silent for a few moments.

"Captain sir? What exactly have I gotten myself into by agreeing to come with you?"

A sensible question that really should have been asked earlier.

"Having Active Flames automatically makes you a member of the criminal Underworld, voi. All Flame Actives are overseen by the Vindice, who police the Underworld and enforce the Laws governing Flame Actives. Flames and their use falls under omerta."

"A whole lot of trouble then," Brindille said with a sigh. Squalo snorted at that accurate summary.

"By agreeing to come with me you agreed to be recruited into the Varia, an organisation working for the Vongola Famiglia."

"You're mafia." That wasn't a question. Squalo nodded. Brindille sighed and dropped her head into her hands. "I've joined the Mafia. Just my shitty luck," she muttered mournfully. Squalo gave her a moment to let the information sink in; some recruits had more trouble accepting their new circumstances than others. Brindille took a deep breath and looked back up at him. "And what does the Varia do for the Vongola?"

"Assassination."

* * *

Ivy's mind fixated on that one word. Assassination. She had joined a group of mafia assassins. Who, from the sound of it, were aware of and could use the strange fire ability she had been able to since the end of second year. Of all the things that had happened to her this one took, if not the whole cake, then a rather significant portion of it.

"I'm not killing people just because some rich twit wants them dead." She said firmly. Her hands were not clean – between Quirrell and the Death Eaters she had killed escaping the graveyard they were anything but – and she accepted killing as a tactical option, but she would not kill people just because she was being paid to.

"So, when would you kill people?" The sole woman in Captain's odd group asked from her perch on the windowsill. Ivy looked over at her, trying to decide if the question was serious or not. Then again, these people were assassins…

"When there's a reason that they need to die. Like rapists or abusers, or if official justice isn't an option."

"Even if you don't want to take missions, there are other things you can do. You'll get more information once we get back to headquarters, voi. The plane leaves in four hours." Captain said, effectively ending the conversation as he rose from his seat.

"Do you need to get anything from where you're staying?" The woman asked as Captain strode off. Ivy shook her head, glad that she had her satchel with her and never bothered unpacking it in case she had to move fast. The woman glanced at the bag doubtfully but dropped the subject.

Ivy spent the ride to the airport deep in thought. This whole situation should really be bothering her more. While not exactly comfortable in the presence of a group of killers, she wasn't quite as uncomfortable as she thought she would be. That they weren't actively trying to kill her at present was probably part of it. The fact that there were people among them who could use Flames, as Captain called them, was probably another reason. Her Cloud Flames had been just another thing making her a freak; another way she didn't fit in, another secret to keep to protect herself. Finding out that there were others with similar abilities and that having these abilities made you part of their society whether you liked it or not was a bit like finding out that magic was real again – just without the added Girl Who Lived crap.

Everything was probably going to hit properly later, but for now she would just go with the flow. At least it got her further away from the mess back in Britain.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed 😊

SilverStorm: Magic is wonderful thing, isn't it? To answer your question: the way I see it, new recruits don't need to speak seven languages when they join. They would need to meet the requirement to reach Varia Quality though and living in a building of eccentric polyglots means recruits are likely to pick up the basics through exposure.

* * *

Lussuria was on duty in Medical in Medical when Squalo came in followed by a skinny female Cloud with black hair in a messy ponytail and the greenest eyes he had ever seen on anyone not using Lightning Flames. "Welcome back Squalo. Who's your friend?"

"Voi, this is Brindille; she's a new recruit."

"A pleasure to meet you darling. I'm Lussuria, the Sun Officer and Head of Medical."

"A pleasure to meet you too, Officer Lussuria," Brindille replied politely.

"She needs a full health check, voi. I'm going to get the admittance paperwork," Squalo said, heading out the door. Lussuria nodded and gestured to Brindille to sit on the nearest bed.

"Take a seat darling. I'll grab the paperwork and then we can get started."

Brindille sat down, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Are you alright darling?" Lussuria asked, concerned. Brindille nodded.

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm just… not particularly comfortable in this kind of environment," she replied.

"Oh? How come?"

"Bad memories."

Luss nodded understandingly. At least she wasn't trying to sneak off like some of the other assassins who weren't comfortable in Medical; Clouds were especially bad for that sort of thing. "I just need some basic details from you before we start. What's your birth name?"

"Ivy-Rose Dorea Potter."

"And your birthday?"

"July 31st, 1980."

"That makes you fourteen right now." Luss said with a slight frown, making a note. Brindille looked thirteen at best. "When did you go Active, sugar?"

"Umm… June 1993, I think."

That was a little more worrying. People who Activated their Flames before or during puberty experienced puberty at an accelerated rate. After being Active for two years, Brindille should look closer to sixteen, not barely thirteen. Luss' frown deepened; that was a very definite sign of malnutrition.

"Is something wrong?" Brindille asked.

"You're malnourished," Luss said, getting straight to the point; Clouds tended to prefer it if you were direct with them. "Having Active Flames means you should be experiencing puberty faster than a Latent would. You should be nearly full grown by now."

"Oh. Is there anything that can be done about it?" Brindille asked, not sounding at all surprised by the fact she was malnourished.

Luss filed that little fact away in the back of his mind as he jotted down a note. "I'm going to put you on a nutrition plan. You're young enough that the right diet should mitigate the effects on your growth. Flame Actives need to eat more than Latents, so healthy snacks are encouraged."

As the examination progressed Lussuria found several more issues he was unhappy with, such as the state of Brindille's eyesight. Her glasses were completely the wrong prescription! The poor girl had been subconsciously using her Flames to Multiply her eyesight because the lenses were too weak for her! Luss wrote out the new prescription to have sent down to the optometrists first thing tomorrow, with a note requesting they put a rush on the order. She'd be getting new frames too; her current ones were bulky, unflattering, and in desperate need of replacing, especially since she'd apparently had them nearly five years. Brindille had enquired about trying contact lenses, so Luss had added them to the prescription too.

Then there were the scars. Brindille had clammed up when Luss had asked about the scars and half-healed wounds he found on her back while using the stethoscope to check her breathing and heart rate. Coupled with the malnutrition, that painted a rather unhappy picture of her life before Squalo found her. Asking about the one on her head revealed that it was actually a memento of the night her parents were murdered, when the murderer's weapon backfired and killed him when he tried to kill baby Ivy. It was a rather odd shape, but a quick check with Sun Flames didn't show anything to be concerned about. Right now, Luss was examining the rather large scar on her forearm. It went straight through and was bigger on her inner forearm than it was on the outside.

"What caused this one, sugar?" Lussuria asked, turning the arm over to get a better look at the entry wound.

"Animal attack at school two years ago." Brindille replied.

Lussuria hummed, frowning slightly. What the hell caused this? "It must have been quite big for the bite to go right through. Did the doctor say anything about potential muscle or tendon damage?"

"I never went to the doctor." Was the quiet admission.

Luss' head jerked up from his contemplation of the scar. "_What?!_" he hissed. Brindille flinched at his angry tone.

"The school wanted to keep it in house, so they didn't send me to hospital and had the school nurse treat me instead. I asked her if I should see a doctor just in case and she said didn't need to," Brindille explained, speaking quickly. "My relatives wouldn't take me to the doctor unless something was very obviously wrong and trying to get an appointment on my own would have resulted in a phone call to my relatives, who would have punished me for wasting the doctor's time. Going to the hospital by myself would have had the same result."

So, it wasn't simply neglecting her wound or Stupid teenage belief that she was immortal, but acting on bad advice from a medical professional along with other issues. Lussuria took a deep breath.

"I see. I'm sorry for how I reacted, honey. I didn't mean to scare you," he apologised.

"It's ok." Brindille replied quietly. Lussuria resumed his examination of the scar, slipping tendrils of Sun Flame under the skin to find and attempt to mitigate any muscle or tendon damage present under the scar.

* * *

Ivy allowed Lussuria to resume poking at her scar – both physically and with some strange warmth she thought might be the Officer's Flames – as she mulled over a question that had been bothering her for the past fifteen minutes or so.

"You said earlier that you're the Sun Officer. Does that mean you have Sun Flames?"

Lussuria nodded, "That's right."

"What do Sun Flames do? I know about Cloud and Rain but not the other types," she asked.

"Sun Flames have to ability of Activation; they're primarily used for strengthening the body or for healing," Lussuria replied.

"Can Cloud Flames be used for healing?" Ivy hoped so. She had figured out quite a few uses for her Flames, but healing was something she hadn't considered. It would be very useful for situations where magic wasn't an option.

Lussuria nodded thoughtfully. "There are some cases where Multiplication would work as well as Activation. I take it you're interested in joining Medical?"

"I'd like to learn how to use my Flames for something that isn't fighting," she said. Figuring out medical uses of Multiplication would be an interesting challenge; it also had the additional bonus of potentially helping her avoid doing assassinations. She could learn to tolerate the infirmary.

"If you want to learn then I'm happy for you to do so. Willing hands are always welcome," Lussuria replied with a smile.

It was then that Captain – or Squalo, as Officer Lussuria called him – returned with the paperwork.

"Voi, fill that in and take it the Kaiser, Head of Housekeeping; apprentices are his responsibility. Make sure you read every single word before signing anything," he told her, shoving the paperwork in her direction. Ivy accepted the papers and started reading through them. Being trapped in a binding magical contract by the Goblet of Fire last year had made her _very_ wary of contracts of any kind. She wasn't going to sign anything without knowing exactly what she was getting into.

* * *

In No.12 Grimmauld Place, the Order of the Phoenix was in a panic. No-one had seen Ivy Potter at the Dursleys for almost a week. Dumbledore had called in Mad Eye Moody to check the house with his enchanted eye, in case the Dursleys had locked her up for some reason, but he had found no trace of the girl. A subtle break in had been staged while the Dursleys were out to retrieve her things and check for any clues as to where she was, but nothing was found. Dumbledore had then confronted Petunia Dursley, who had informed him that she had no idea where the girl was – which the old man confirmed via Legilimency – and shut the door in his face.

Sirius sat back as he watched the Order argue about what to do. The only reason he wasn't joining in was because he knew _why_ she had left. Her note had clearly explained her reasons and they were ones he could sympathise with; he'd left home at sixteen for similar reasons. A sudden crack like a firework caused the noise to abruptly cease. Albus Dumbledore stowed his wand back in his sleeve and looked around the table. "I understand that everybody is worried about Ivy. However, we cannot come up with a plan to find her if we cannot hear ourselves think."

"I think the first thing we should do is see if we can contact Miss Potter. Perhaps Sirius or one of the Weasley children could write to her?" Kingsley Shacklebolt suggested. There were nods of approval from the assembled adults and Molly Weasley was asked to summon her children to the kitchen.

"Have any of you heard from Ivy?" Dumbledore asked once the children had arrived. The four of them looked at each other and shook their heads. Dumbledore put on his best sad grandfather face. "Ivy has gone missing. She's not at her aunt's house, and we were rather hoping she might have written to one of you with some hint of where she might be. Perhaps one of you could write to her, asking where she is and if she is safe? It would help us immensely."

The four children swelled with pride at being asked to help the Order.

"We'll do that Professor." Ginny agreed.

Dumbledore smiled at her in a grandfatherly manner. "Thank you, Ginevra. That would be a weight off my mind."

Molly quickly shooed her children out of the kitchen to write the letters.

Emmaline Vance was the next to speak up. "We can't just rely on the children for this. What else should we do?"

"It's unlikely Potter's anywhere in the wizarding world; we'd have heard by now. That means she's in a muggle area somewhere." Moody growled. He had a good point; between Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and the Ministry's propaganda, Ivy would be foolish to enter Diagon Alley right now.

"That's still a lot of ground to cover. Muggle London is a huge, never mind the rest of the country." Remus pointed out.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "It is indeed. If we first confine the search to the muggle areas around Kings Cross train station and Diagon Alley, then we can spread out from there." Dumbledore looked around the assembled witches and wizards once more. "Well then. There is not much we can do sitting around in here. I hereby call this meeting to a close."

Remus caught up with Sirius as he left the kitchen. "Can I talk to you?"

Sirius nodded and lead his friend to one of the living rooms that had been cleaned and declared safe, flicking a few locking and privacy spells at the door. "What is it Moony?"

"You don't seem very worried that Ivy's missing," Remus accused.

"Ivy sent me a note a few days ago, saying that she was leaving the Dursleys and explaining why, but not where she was going."

"Why didn't you say anything at the meeting then?" Remus asked.

"Have you considered that maybe she doesn't want to be found? You and I both know that Dumbledore will force her to go back to the Dursleys if he finds her, which will put her back in the exact same situation she's trying to escape from," Sirius replied. He could see his friend considering his point. "Be honest Moony – do you really think the Death Eaters are going to look for Ivy in the muggle world? Even if they did, she'd be able to spot them from a mile away; Purebloods aren't exactly experts at blending in."

"I guess you're right Padfoot. I'm just worried about her."

"Ivy's a sensible girl; she'll be fine. If she's not back by mid-August, then I'll worry. I'll write to her in a week or so and see when she plans on coming back. After the time she's had, she deserves a little freedom." Sirius flicked his wand at the door again, taking down the charms and signalling the conversation was over. He stood by what he said; Ivy deserved her freedom and he wasn't going to help Dumbledore take it away.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

Anon: That is a very interesting question about the venom and tears, and one I hadn't considered.

quaff: To be honest, that completely slipped my mind. I've altered that part of chapter 3 now to account for it.

Elfin69: The Vindice oversee the mafia, not wizards, so they probably wouldn't interfere unless omerta was at risk. The Varia, on the other hand, are a completely different story…

* * *

Ivy quickly settled into her new life at the Varia. The first few days had consisted of academic and language tests, overseen by the Head of Housekeeping. Kaiser was a former Varia Head who had been invalided out of the job a couple of decades earlier when a mission went wrong and decided to stick around. He was feared and respected in equal measure by all Varia.

Once her academic level had been ascertained she started taking lessons from Kaiser and the other Housekeeping staff alongside the other apprentices, both in regular academic subjects and mafia lore. She also started training in Medical. Right now, she was just shadowing and acting as a gopher, but she was picking up a lot about handling injured and uncooperative assassins. Along with the lessons, there was physical and weapons training. Ivy had shown herself to have frighteningly good aim for someone who had never handled a gun before – the same skills that helped her find the Snitch translating into a less innocent field. She had chosen to learn how to wield a _tanto_ sword as a close-range weapon, as she knew she didn't have the build or strength to be a bare-hand fighter. Learning self-defence was essential when living with assassins.

Flame training was usually self-study, supervised by a qualified Varia of the appropriate Flame type, or someone who at least had that Flame as a secondary. How a person used their Flames was specific to an individual, as Flames were the manifestation of the soul and no two souls were exactly alike, so to was up to them to figure out their specialities and strengths. Ivy's Flame training was overseen by Hood, a Rainy Cloud who had attached himself to Rain division due to being unable to stand his slimeball of an Officer, who trained her in the basics of both her primary Cloud and secondary Rain Flames.

Between her lessons and her training, Ivy didn't really have much time to think about what was going on back in Britain.

* * *

Ivy was rather surprised when an owl flew into the breakfast room one morning, almost two weeks after she arrived, and landed in front of her. Well, flopped, more accurately. Ivy recognised the owl as Errol, the Weasley family's elderly great grey owl, who she had last seen three years ago when she spent the summer at the Burrow after the twins broke her out of Durzkaban.

"What's a great grey owl doing here?" the teenage Mist sat next to her asked. Jinx was one of Ivy's fellow apprentices, who upon meeting her had decided she was interesting and attached herself to the newest apprentice.

"Delivering post," Ivy replied as she carefully rolled Errol over to check he was still breathing; having the owl expire at breakfast would be an unpleasant way to start the day. Thankfully, Errol had not departed for the Great Owlery in the Sky, though he wouldn't be in any state to return to Britain any time soon. Or possibly ever.

"Let's see who sent you here," she muttered as she carefully untied the letters from Errol's unmoving leg. The first envelope was from Fred, judging by the handwriting. Ivy was about to open it when she remembered where she was. This wasn't Hogwarts, where common courtesy dictated that you didn't read each other's letters without permission; this was the Varia, where any secrets you didn't hide well enough were fair gossip. She turned to Jinx.

"Would you set up something so nobody but me can read the letters?" she asked. Jinx pouted at the thought of missing out on potentially juicy secrets. "I'll tell you what it says, I just don't want people reading over my shoulder," Ivy sighed. She had already learned on that the vast majority of Mists liked to hoard secrets, especially those of people they found interesting. Jinx liked her, so naturally that meant the Mist wanted to be the one who kept her secrets. Some secrets she wasn't comfortable sharing yet – like magic or the Dursleys – but she could share what the letter said.

"Sure!" Jinx chirped, perking up. She wiggled her fingers over the envelopes and Ivy felt the odd smoky feel of Mist Flames cover them like a thick blanket. Ivy smiled gratefully at her friend and opened the first letter.

"What does it say?" Jinx asked

"It starts by congratulating me for pulling a 'brilliant prank' and giving my relatives the slip. Then he asks where I am and if I'm ok; apparently, the Headmaster at my school went around to my aunt's house to find me and was worried when no one knew where I was. The rest is just vague information about them staying somewhere other than their house for the summer. It ends by telling me to stay out of trouble and asking me when I'm coming back," Ivy said. Fred had mentioned a watcher on the house as well as her relatives, and that more people were worried about her than just the headmaster, but that was the gist of it.

"Why would your headmaster be looking for you during the summer holidays?" a nearby assassin Ivy didn't know asked. She should have asked Jinx to prevent eavesdropping too.

She shrugged, "I have no idea." She quickly opened and read the letters from Ginny and George, which said much the same thing. The last envelope was addressed in Ronald's scrawl. Why would he be writing to her? It wasn't like they were friends; between his bad manners, atrocious eating habits, pushy attempts to make her his 'best mate', his treatment of Hermione on Halloween of first year, and his constant rude comments about Neville and Luna, she wanted as little to do with him as possible. She didn't bother opening the letter; she simply burned it, along with the opened letters. Even with Jinx's Mist trick hiding the contents, it was better safe than sorry. Varia assassins were like cats; extremely nosy and lethal cats.

"Why didn't you bother opening that one?" Jinx asked as the letters turned to ashes.

"I dislike the sender," Ivy replied simply, picking up the unconscious Errol. She had sword training this morning, so she would need to ask one of the Housekeeping staff to keep an eye on him until she was free. Replies would have to wait until Errol was fit to fly or she somehow got her hands on another post owl.

* * *

Rumour in the Varia moved only marginally slower than thought, so it wasn't long before everyone in the building knew about Brindille's unusual mail delivery. Naturally Mammon, Mist Officer, World's Best Information Broker, and Mist Arcobaleno, was one of the first to hear about it.

The new Cloud apprentice Squalo had found in France was obviously magical. No other culture Mammon had ever heard about or come across used owls to deliver post and the way she had apparently handled the owl showed familiarity with the birds that most teenagers did not have. People with both Active magic and Flames were almost unheard of. You could have magic, or you could Activate Flames, but rarely did anyone have both; Mammon was one of those exceptions. They didn't understand why Flames and magic rarely manifested in the same person – they had never been able to find a satisfactory explanation – but theorised that magic somehow inhibited all but the very strongest Flame potential, and even then it would likely require a life-threatening situation where magic could not help them for Flame Activation to occur. There was no real way to test this without breaking both the Statute of Secrecy and omerta, but it was the best theory they could come up with on limited information.

That theory made this Brindille all the more interesting. What situation had she faced where magic could not help her, and she was instead forced to call on her Dying Will? It wasn't like they could just ask her; she was not a Mist or in a Squad lead by a Mist, and people would take an interest if the Mist Officer called a Cloud apprentice to their office for some reason. No, they would have to collect the information themselves, starting by observing the young witch in question.

Lussuria was always nagging about how spending so much time in their office was unhealthy, and there were only so many times one could check stock market prices in a day. The quicker they satisfied their curiosity the quicker they could get back to work.

* * *

Mammon found their target in one of the training rooms where the mooks and apprentices who used swords trained. Wrapping an illusion around themselves to hide themselves from sight, Mammon entered the room. Anyone was allowed to watch apprentice training and spars, but there was a Varia Rule that only those Varia who were teaching were allowed to critique while the lesson was ongoing. Mammon's caution was well founded; the lack of other watchers would have made the Mist Officer's presence here very noticeable and attracted attention

It didn't take them long to locate the sole Cloud being trained. The black-haired green-eyed girl almost perfectly matched the pictures of Ivy Potter they had seen in copies of the _Daily Prophet_ that they had delivered. Mammon didn't trust the information from that particular paper – it was an open secret that it was really just a mouthpiece for the British Ministry of Magic – but it was always good to know what the politicians wanted people to think. The reporting of the Triwizard Tournament, for instance, had been exceedingly biased in favour of the Ministry and the elder British champion. The pictures were about the only real factual information in the whole publication.

Fortunately, Mammon didn't have to wait too long for training to finish. As Brindille made her way over to where she had left her water bottle she wiped a hand across her forehead to remove the sweat, lifting her fringe enough for Mammon to catch a brief glimpse of the distinctive lightning bolt scar. Ivy Potter and Brindille were one and the same. Mammon remained hidden as the others left, leaving only themselves and Ivy Potter in the training room.

"You can come out now," the girl said in a conversational tone.

Mammon discarded their illusion, seemingly materialising out of thin air. "I didn't expect our newest recruit to be the Girl-Who-Lived."

"Don't call me that," the Cloud scowled. "I survived that night because of something my mother did. As if a baby could defeat a full-grown Dark Lord at the height of his powers. Since you know that godforsaken title, you're either magical yourself or you have connections on that side."

"I am magical. I'm curious as to how you Activated your Flames. Most of our kind are incapable of it," Mammon told her, getting straight to the point. Time was money after all.

"I found myself in a deadly situation where my wand had been stolen and I wanted to get myself and the student trapped with me out alive," she replied cagily. Did she really think they would let her get away with so little information?

"What kind of deadly situation?" the little miser asked. The Cloud glared and crossed her arms, body language defiant. Clearly an answer would not be forthcoming any time soon. At least she hadn't tried to leave yet, not that Mammon would let her get away without gaining the information they wanted.

Mammon floated a little closer to the Cloud, something niggling at the back of their mind that they hadn't felt in a long time; their magic. The Curse had forcibly suppressed Mammon's magic, their new form unable to cope with the excess of power, but that didn't mean that they could no longer use it or were no longer sensitive to it. Their suppressed core was simply much harder to draw on than their Flames, and they could do just as much with Mist as they could with magic. Despite the suppression, Mammon was still as sensitive to magic as they were before the Curse, and right now their magic was sensing something wrong. There was something in the area of that famous scar that just didn't seem right…

"If I answer that question, and that one only, will you drop the subject?" Brindille asked, breaking Mammon from their thoughts.

"For now," the miniaturised Mist replied. Brindille debated for a moment in her head before answering.

"I was fighting a basilisk."

What?! Mammon could easily spot a liar and Brindille wasn't lying. There had been a basilisk in Hogwarts? How the Hell had they managed to keep that covered up? Brindille picked up her water bottle and left the training room, leaving the startled Mist Officer alone. Mammon shook themselves from their shock and Mist-warped themselves back to their office to mull over this new information in private. The encounter may have left them with more questions than answers but pushing the subject when Brindille was uncomfortable with it would not achieve the desired result. There would be other opportunities once the Cloud had settled.

Pushing those thoughts firmly aside, Mammon picked up the top sheet from their in-tray. They could make some headway through the mission reports before they checked the stock market again.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

quaff: As you said, Luss can't see it – not just because they aren't magical but also because the soul fragment is too small to register to Flames. Mammon knows their colleague isn't magical, so won't bother asking about the odd concentration of black magic they sensed in the scar. I've got plans for dealing with the scar, but there's a few other things that need to happen first.

Xanxus is currently… unavoidably detained… but he will be told about magic eventually.

Elfin69: You'll have to wait and see what happens with the Horcrux. It includes Mammon but that's all I'm saying. There were no tracers on the letters; the Weasley kids had Arthur take the letters back to the Burrow for Errol to deliver, so the letters went nowhere near the Headmaster's wand.

* * *

July and August had passed fairly quietly at the Varia. Work ground to a halt in the summer, when daytime temperatures made it too hot to think, let alone move. Many Varia took the opportunity to go on holiday (normally somewhere cooler) or visit family if they were still on speaking terms.

Ivy had received a second owl in August, this time from Sirius. Her godfather's letter was more informative than the ones from the Weasleys had been. He was currently hiding in his childhood home in London, despite the bad memories it held, as the place was well protected and extremely difficult to find, let alone enter, without an invite. Dumbledore had also persuaded him to host a group of 'like-minded people' – people who believed that Voldemort was back – assembled by the old man to keep an eye on the 'current situation' – meaning what Voldemort and the Death Eaters were getting up to while the Ministry was playing ostrich. He hadn't actually said as much, citing security concerns in case the letter was intercepted, but it was clear if you read between the lines.

The Weasleys were amongst those 'like-minded people' and were actually living in the house with Sirius, helping him clean it out and make it properly habitable again. He had included a few tales of their misadventures, including a rather murderous old ghoul in the attic, a grandfather clock that spat bolts at anyone who walked past, and Ronald being attacked by a vicious set of Sirius' father's dress robes. The Weasleys were unhappy she hadn't replied and were wondering if she had actually received their letters; Errol was so old that him being unable to complete the delivery was a real possibility. Remus sent his best wishes and hoped she was safe, as did the others. Sirius warned her that she was likely to get in trouble for disappearing when she got back but assured her that he supported her decision to leave the Dursleys and had gained Remus' support too.

The letter also contained some unpleasant news; Dudley and his friends had apparently had a run-in with a rogue Dementor and were now soulless shells. The news had come from Mrs Figg, who Ivy had not known was magical or connected to Dumbledore's group in any way. According to Sirius, the Ministry was doing absolutely nothing about the attack, which wasn't a surprise. While the Dementor's Kiss was not something she would wish on anyone, Ivy struggled feel anything for the boys who had made her life Hell. She would probably have felt more for complete strangers than she did for her childhood tormentors.

Ivy persuaded the owl that brought the letter to stay and deliver her reply, then carried it off to her room to write said reply. Her contract and omerta limited what she could tell Sirius, but hopefully what she could tell him would reassure him she was safe and doing well.

She told Sirius about her holiday in Paris, that she was now in Italy, and a bit about her new friends. She made sure to alter events to make it sound like she had met her friends while in Paris and they had decided to travel together, using a few facts that Hermione had told her about the bushy-haired girl's own trips to France to make the story more plausible; telling him what really happened was out of the question, even without omerta. She felt bad lying to Sirius about where she really was, but she didn't want certain people (Dumbledore) finding out where she was if they somehow got their hands on the letter and dragging her back to Britain. Sicily was an autonomous region of Italy, so it wasn't like she was telling a huge lie.

Figuring out how to tell him she wasn't going back to Britain was a bit harder. Yes, she wanted to avoid the giant target that was on her back now Voldemort was loose again, but the main reason was freedom; freedom she would lose the moment she was back under Dumbledore's thumb. Eventually she settled for just telling him the first reason, not sure how he'd react to the second. Sirius looked up to Dumbledore, so he might take that one badly. She did make a point of promising to look into continuing her education where she was. She was already catching up on her mundane education and she could see if the Mist Officer was amenable to accepting cake in exchange for helping her get access to her vaults again so she could continue with magic.

She also apologised for not replying to the Weasleys letters. Errol had passed away a couple of days after arriving at his destination, the long journey having been too much for the loyal owl. To be honest, it had been a miracle he had survived the journey in the first place. The owl had been buried in the grounds, as was Traditional when a living being expired on the premises (not that she told Sirius all of that). She sent her condolences and offered to send money to buy the Weasleys a new family owl if they wanted one.

Her reply written, she tied it to the owl's leg and went out the back to send it off on its long journey back to Britain. Ivy stood watching the owl fly away until it was nothing but a speck in the azure sky, then went back inside.

* * *

September was Mad Month. All the jobs that had built up over the summer came flooding in during the last few days of August. Information – the Squad responsible for the intelligence side of things – had set up their operations room two days in advance with snacks, blankets, and instant coffee in preparation for double shifts and less than five hours sleep a night just to sort through all the missions and get them out to the other Squads. Missions assigned in batches by geographical area rather than being given to the Squad best suited to the job, with multiple Squads working in the same area and swapping members as needed. Squads were often thrown together at the last minute from whoever had the right skills and was available at the time, especially for those missions in more isolated regions.

It wasn't just busy for the Squads. All training was put on hold during September – since the chances were whoever was training you was elsewhere – and the apprentices press-ganged into running errands for Housekeeping, ferrying paperwork from Information to the Officers, or heading out with a Squad if they were apprenticed directly to an assassin. Ivy had finally been taken off gopher duty and was now helping haul sleep-deprived assassins who had injured themselves back to Medical to patch them up so they could be sent out on yet another of the many missions that just kept pouring in. It was not uncommon to trip over assassins curled up in hallways and public rooms or sleeping in puppy-piles, having dropped off in the first comfortable place they found. It was a hectic time, punctuated by moments of madness and severe sleep deprivation all round. Ivy had been tempted more than once by the thought of a cup of coffee to keep her going despite her quite frankly unpleasant reaction to caffeinated drinks. She settled for leaning on her Flames rather than adding to Medical's currently insane workload. At least the lack of sleep meant she wasn't having disturbing dreams about long dark corridors or Voldemort's rebirth.

Another owl had arrived during the first week of September, one that Ivy was very glad to see. Hedwig had come bearing letters from Neville, Luna, and Hermione, along with a package from the older witch. Ivy was delighted to hear from her friends, though she was careful to handle the letters with gloves –considering where they had come from there was a good chance that a certain someone had put a tracking spell on them. She would have to ask Mammon to either check the package for spells or teach her how to do it before she opened it.

Both Neville and Luna's letters were filled with stories about what they had done during the holidays and information about the new DADA teacher – a Dolores Umbridge, who was apparently quite highly placed in the Ministry. That didn't bode well. Hermione's letter was slightly different, as it started with a reprimand for running off without telling an authority figure – e.g. Dumbledore – and not writing to Hermione the way she had written to Neville and Luna to explain why.

To be honest, Ivy had completely forgotten she hadn't told the older witch about her leaving the Dursleys. Hermione had gone to America with her parents two days after they left Hogwarts – the brunette had been quite enthusiastic about it when she received the letter from her parents after the Yule Ball – for the better part of two months, and Ivy hadn't been able to remember when the other girl was due back. With everything else going on and the lack of an owl to take letters for her, it had slipped her mind.

Ivy had found time to scribble out a short joint reply to the three of them and sent it back with Hedwig – who was slightly disgruntled at having to leave her human again so soon after being reunited – apologising to Hermione for leaving her out of the loop, assuring them she was safe, and promising write properly once things weren't quite so busy. Unfortunately, it looked like that wouldn't be until early October at best.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not a happy wizard. His gaze swept over the packed Great Hall, coming to rest on the Gryffindor table where the reason for his displeasure should have been sat. They were already two weeks into the school year and Ivy Potter still hadn't emerged from wherever she was hiding.

Why did the girl have to pick now of all times to disappear into thin air? With Tom in possession of a body and the prophecy moving forward once again, he needed Ivy Potter where he could lay hands on her when the time was right for her to complete her destiny and enable Tom's defeat. However, instead of staying put at her aunt's house like he had told her to on numerous occasions, she had snuck away in the dead of night while Mundungus was snoring on the front lawn! Albus had been sorely tempted to hex the sneak thief, but such actions were unbecoming of a paragon of the Light and the man was useful, so he had settled for a stern reprimand with a Look of disappointment.

All of his attempts to locate Ivy were fruitless. The goblins had been as unhelpful as usual when he had gone to Gringotts to enquire if she had accessed her vaults lately and had flat out refused to set up a watch on her accounts unless he produced a Ministry warrant. He had not had the opportunity to place tracking charms on the letters the Weasley children had sent, as they had sent them while he was at Gringotts. Searches of the muggle areas of London had proved to be an exercise in frustration; with no starting point, the area was simply too large to be searched even with magic. Even Remus, with his enhanced sense of smell, couldn't find a trace of Ivy in the areas they had searched. Albus had eventually called off the search in mid-August and instead set people to watching Diagon Alley, convinced Ivy would make an appearance to do her school shopping. She had not.

Albus was convinced Sirius knew something. The man was too calm despite his goddaughter being missing. Unfortunately, one of the few good things Sirius' parents had done for him was teach him to Occlude, so Albus couldn't use the passive Legilimency he favoured to try and lift the information from the fugitive's mind. Active Legilimency required a wand, so was far too obvious, and he couldn't track the man's post because the truly paranoid Wards around Grimmauld Place included ones to detect when the Lord's correspondence had been tampered with by someone in the building. Tampering with it after it had left was possible but unwise – Dumbledore wasn't entirely sure how Sirius was delivering the letters, since as far as he was aware Sirius did not own or have regular access to an owl, and post owls were vicious little bastards when someone attempted to interfere with a delivery.

When Luna Lovegood had returned to Hogwarts with Ivy's owl, Dumbledore thought he had spotted his chance. He had been successful in attaching a wandless tracking charm to Miss Granger's package when she had met up with Miss Lovegood and Mr Longbottom after dinner. The charm would activate on skin contact with the next magical who touched it, attaching itself to them for a brief time and allowing him to pinpoint their location; it also had the added bonus of being difficult to detect by anyone checking the package. That had been more than a week ago, and the spell had still not been activated. Tracking charms dissipated after a few days if not activated, so Albus knew that plan had failed. He would need to think up a new strategy.

Glancing down the table at the Ministry stooge Fudge had saddled him with to teach Defence this year his frown deepened. While he needed to get Ivy back under his control, Dolores Umbridge was a more immediate problem. The Ministry's increased interference in his domain was not something he was prepared to tolerate. He would need to deal with that as quickly as he could so that he could devote his attentions to the war effort and locating the wayward Chosen One.

At least Ivy being gone had one benefit. With her not present in Hogwarts, he didn't have to worry about Tom using the Horcrux Albus suspected was in Ivy's scar to try and get information on Albus' plans.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

Lara . Niric: As I said before, the soul piece is simply too small to be detected by Flames. Ivy's scar is an accidental Horcrux, so only a tiny part of Voldemort's unstable soul is trapped in it; enough to prevent him from meeting his long overdue demise if it isn't dealt with, but still too small for detection. The only reason Mammon can sense it is because they have magic and the thing is a very noticeable against Ivy's otherwise untainted magic.

Black Dragoniss: I'm not sure about the DA. I'll have to think about it

* * *

Sirius sat in the old family sitting room of Grimmauld Place, reading his latest letter from Ivy. Lessons, teachers, friends (some odd names, but he really couldn't talk – odd names were standard in the Wizarding world), pranks; it was the sort of letter he should have been receiving from her during her years at Hogwarts. Would have received, if he hadn't been such a prat that night and if he had been given a trial. It was a typical letter from a child far from home to their loved ones, and it was so very different from the letters he had received from Ivy during her fourth year. Nightmares, burning scars, deadly tournaments, dragons, arranging clandestine meet ups in the mountains outside Hogsmeade… The difference was amazing.

Of course, it was obvious some details were missing. Ivy had explained it as not wanting to be found if the Ministry or Dumbledore intercepted the letter. Perfectly understandable in Sirius' book. If this was the difference three months away from Britain had made to his goddaughter, then he would be the last person to force her back.

That last thought caused Sirius to frown. Dumbledore had probably already figured out that Sirius knew something about Ivy's disappearance. It was only a matter of time before the old man asked Sirius what he knew, either in writing or in person. Out of Ivy's connections in Britain, he was the most vulnerable. Her friends might be in Dumbledore's domain, but Sirius was still a wanted criminal. Even with Shacklebolt convincing the DMLE he was in Tibet, all it would take was one supposed sighting… Sirius was all the family Ivy had and any hint that he was in danger would bring her running.

Sirius looked around the dingy room. Ivy was the only reason he had ever come back to this place. He had left his hideaway on Black Island and returned to Britain, knowing that there was still a Kiss-on-sight order on his head, hiding in caves and scavenging scraps to try and protect her. When Voldemort returned, he offered Grimmauld Place as a headquarters for the Order, his fugitive status making it impossible for him to fight on the front lines and help protect his pup from the madman who murdered her parents. With her safely out of Voldemort's reach, there was no reason for him to stay. He had already adjusted the Wards to allow the Order to come and go without him needing to be there; that had been difficult, but he had managed it eventually. Thankfully the Family Wards were one of the lessons he had finished before his mother had forced his father to end his Heir lessons when he was fourteen, despite them being one of the Pureblood Traditions she was so proud of. The hypocrite.

Anyway, he had no reason to stick around and multiple reasons to leave. The main problem was how to find Ivy, but Sirius had an advantage there. When he swore the magical oaths to become her godfather, he and James used a ritual that connected Sirius' magic to Ivy's, in case something happened and he couldn't find her. The connection was faint, but it was enough to get a sense of which direction she was in and how close if he concentrated. He already knew she was somewhere abroad – the trip to Paris had been a big hint – so all he needed to do was smuggle himself out of the country again and then use the connection to find her. It was a simple plan, but years of pranks had taught him that simple plans worked better.

The only thing he was struggling with was whether to invite Moony along. Remus was his best friend, but the werewolf was also incredibly grateful to Dumbledore for allowing him to attend Hogwarts after he was bitten. Dumbledore had already played on that gratitude once before, sending Moony out to try and win over the packs in the last war; an action that had led them all to believe he was the traitor when the Death Eaters started hunting down Order members. Leaving Remus behind would potentially set him up to be emotionally blackmailed into doing something inadvisable again, like helping Dumbledore track Ivy down. Equally, taking Remus with him could also see the werewolf giving information about Ivy's location to the Headmaster out of a need to repay him. It was a tricky one. Sirius wanted to bring his best friend, but he also didn't want to risk Ivy's newfound freedom.

There was also the little fact that Moony was a _werewolf_. Sirius would have to check if he was allowed to leave the country in the first place; Remus was more of a stickler for rules than Sirius had ever been and would likely baulk at the idea of breaking an actual law. That would involve some tedious legal research, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do right now. Fortunately, the Black library had a great many books on the laws of Britain and Europe – after all, you had to know the rules in order to break them without getting caught.

Feeling much happier, Sirius headed off to the library to start his research.

* * *

The first week or so of October at the Varia were mostly spent doing two things; catching up on sleep and figuring out what actually happened during the madness that was September. There were all sorts of strange stories going around, both from the field and at home. The most popular one was how the Mist GM gave several people animal appendages for pissing him off and then refused to turn them back for half an hour, but that was hardly the strangest. Several of the subjects of those stories had ended up in Medical, including a Cloud who had somehow managed to Multiply the size of his nose while half-asleep until it was the general size and shape of an aubergine. That one had been hilarious, not that Ivy had so much as snickered within his hearing; the more highly strung Clouds tended to react violently if you did that.

Lussuria had given her the day off from Medical and she had no lessons today, so Ivy decided to spend her free time working on Flame training. Hood had recently declared she was competent enough with her Flames that she could be trusted to work on them independently. Since the weather was pleasant, she decided to train outside for a bit. Most people did outdoor training to test more potentially destructive techniques that could get them in trouble with Mammon if used indoors; Ivy came out here to run. The forest around the Varia castle was her favourite place to run. Sprinting along with the wind in her hair, the ground flying under her feet, dodging trees as she used her Flames to Increase her speed, senses, and reflexes. It gave her a similar thrill to the one she got from flying. After the stress of September, a good run was just the thing she needed.

With all her concentration focused on not crashing into trees as she increased her speed, Ivy didn't notice the half-buried tree root in her path until she tripped over it. As she fell, she curled into a ball, using her Rain Flames to try and slow herself down enough to prevent serious injuries. Fortunately, it had rained recently, so the ground was softer than it would have been; still, crashing into a tree wasn't fun. Ivy lay against the trunk of the tree, feet in the air and head between two roots, waiting for the world to stop spinning before trying to sit up. A quick check with her Flames revealed no broken bones but the throbbing in her ankle told her she had sprained it. Hopefully she would still be able to walk back.

Getting herself the right way up made the world start spinning again, so standing would have to wait. Closing her eyes, Ivy let her awareness expand in a way that she hadn't been able to while running at top speed. Unexpectedly, a Flame signature appeared not too far away; Ottabio, the Cloud Officer. He was one of those Varia Ivy made every effort to avoid if she could – there was something about him that gave her the creeps. What was he doing all the way out here? Maybe he was training? Damn, now she was curious. Surely it wouldn't hurt to see what he was up too.

Ivy used the tree to ease herself upright and carefully tested her injured ankle. She would need to support it with Rain Flames, but she could make it back to the castle. Turning in the direction of Ottabio's Flames, she removed her glasses – she could have kept them on, but this way was easier – and Multiplied her vision until she could see him properly. He was talking on the phone. Why would he be all the way out here to take a phone call when he had a perfectly good office that he could secure against eavesdroppers and uninvited guests? Ivy turned up her hearing, curiosity burning; she really was getting too nosy for her own good.

"…when the job is done. Make sure you have the money ready." Ottabio stopped talking and turned to look straight at her. She had been noticed. Time to leave. Ivy returned her senses to normal and quickly started back the way she had come. She didn't get far before a gunshot rang out and something hit her in the side. Ivy cried out and pressed her hands to her side, eyes widening when they came away bloody. She had been shot.

"You really shouldn't spy on people," Ottabio said conversationally as he walked up behind her. Ivy spun around to face him, keeping one hand on her wound and directing her Rain Flames to staunch the bleeding. He had his gun pointed at her. "I don't know how much you heard, but I'm afraid I can't let you walk away." What a cliché way of telling her he was going to kill her. Ivy's free hand found the hilt of her tanto and she slipped into a fighting stance. She wasn't going to die today.

Ottabio's finger tightened on the trigger.

It was over before she had time to think. She dodged to the side and surged towards him, Increasing her speed, her strength, the sharpness of her blade, going straight for the neck. Seconds later there was a thud as Ottabio's head hit the ground.

Ivy promptly threw up.

* * *

Squalo had been in his office when he received the summons from Kaiser. It may have been worded as a polite request, but it was most definitely a summons. The Heads of the Varia and Varia Housekeeping didn't summon each other unless it was important, so this was definitely something that needed attending to quickly. Squalo set the paperwork to one side, glad of a valid reason to escape the torturous work, and followed the messenger set to get him.

The messenger led him to one of the smaller rooms in the area of the castle set aside for Housekeeping and gestured for him to enter. Kaiser was inside, along with Lobo from Medical and a blood- and mud-splattered Brindille. The girl had her t-shirt off while Lobo treated a through-and-through gunshot wound on her side.

"Voi, what's going on?" Squalo asked the room in general. Brindille looked up from her observation of what Lobo was doing.

"I killed Ottabio," she said simply, producing Ottabio's glasses from a pocket. She looked pale in a way Squalo didn't think was just blood loss. Was this her first kill?

Squalo had to supress a smile at the pleasant and unexpected news. "Do we have a body?"

"Brindille informed me where he could be found when she returned; I've sent people out to retrieve him from the woods. Cause of death was beheading." Kaiser informed him. Squalo nodded gratefully to the Stormy Rain. That was one less thing for him to sort out. Now all he needed was to give Brindille a new Name and set her up with the Cloud Division paperwork. What to call her though? Brindille had no longer looked like a skinny twig, having grown a few inches and filled out a bit since joining. That messy black hair of hers still reminded Squalo of feathers though, and she was still quite slight. Hmm, there was an idea…

"He's definitely dead then. Congratulations on your promotion, Amsel." Squalo said with a grin.

The newly Named Amsel looked confused. "Promotion?"

"When a Varia not an Officer kills the Officer of their Flame type, that Varia automatically becomes Officer of that division. That's how most Officers get promoted actually; I think Officer Lussuria is the only one of the current Officers who was appointed by his predecessor." Lobo explained as he bandaged Amsel's wound and started checking over her other injuries.

Confusion turned to indignation. "I didn't kill him because I wanted his job. It was self-defence!"

"The promotion still stands, voi. You're the Cloud Officer until you find a suitable replacement and retire or get offed by an ambitious underling," Squalo told her, filing away the self-defence comment for later consideration. "Until then, you are responsible for overseeing Cloud Division's paperwork, missions, training, and discipline. You also have the authority to change the Division Squad leader and GM if you want. There might also be other responsibilities later on depending on how you're coping with the workload." That covered most of the basics. Amsel still looked displeased by the situation but seemed resigned to it.

"I will send people to start packing up and removing Ottabio's personal effects from the Cloud Officer suite. It will take a day or two to make it ready for you to move in," Kaiser said to Amsel, who nodded. Lobo finished sorting out the last of Amsel's injuries and backed off, allowing her to get dressed again.

"Let's go find Luss and get you fitted for a uniform," Squalo said once she was decent, grinning as he headed out of the room. Having Ottabio dead solved several of his headaches and was well worth the effort he and the other Officers would need to put in to get the baby Cloud replacing him up to scratch. Even without help, Amsel could not possibly be worse than Levi. A competent and halfway trustworthy Cloud Officer was worth her weight in gold.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

LMaltez: Ivy is a Rainy Cloud, meaning her secondary affinity is Rain.

To all those who mentioned about the questioning: here it is

* * *

"You said it was self-defence, voi. Why did he attack you in the first place?" Squalo asked as the two Officers made their way through the quiet back corridors towards Lussuria's office.

"I overheard him talking on the phone, saying he would call someone when the job was done and telling them to have money ready. I'm guessing he shouldn't have been doing that because that's why he tried to kill me," Amsel replied, still looking a bit pale. She was too calm for this to be her first kill so why did she look like it was?

Squalo frowned. It sounded like Ottabio had been selling information. Not against contract, provided you did it through Mammon. Doing it yourself though… that was a potential loophole in the Officer contract that needed to be closed. The regular contracts would need to be looked over too, just in case. Who had he been selling information to? What had he said? Even when dead Ottabio was still causing him headaches. "He shouldn't have. If you find anything in his stuff that looks like it might relate to that I need to see it. I'll pass the message on to Kaiser too." Damn, this was such a potential mess…

"Sorry." Amsel apologised.

Squalo waved the apology away. "It's not your fault, voi. This mess may be a headache, but Ottabio's death means it's more damage control than anything else." They continued in silence for a short while. "Was this your first kill?"

"Fifth actually. Sixth if you count the giant snake." Well that was a surprise. Amsel was one of the last people Squalo had expected to have a body count prior to joining the Varia. Wait a minute…

"Giant snake?" Squalo asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"It was attacking people in the school and tried to eat me and my friend's little sister. I stabbed it through the head with a sword; I went to school in a renovated castle, so there were plenty around," Amsel explained, the colour starting to return to her cheeks. That… that was pretty strange, even by Varia standards. Now Squalo was curious about the other four kills on her record. Unfortunately, that would have to wait; they had reached Lussuria's office. Hopefully the okama was here. Squalo knocked.

"Come in! What can I do for you Squ-chan, Brindille?" Lussuria asked as they stepped into the office.

Squalo grinned, "Not Brindille anymore, voi. Amsel here is the new Cloud Officer." Lussuria clapped his hands and grinned.

"That's wonderful! Congratulations sugar! I take it you're here for a uniform then. We'll need to go down to the village tomorrow and get you a proper pair of boots from the cobbler too. Just stand on that platform for me and we'll get you sorted," Luss said as he found a tape measure and a note pad. "So, what did Ottabio do to meet his demise?"

"I heard him talking about something he shouldn't have been doing, and he tried to kill me for it. Naturally, I didn't take it very well," Amsel replied.

"He was selling information outside of approved channels. We don't know who to yet; that's next on the list," Squalo explained. Amsel needed her uniform and crest so everyone knew she had the right to go into the Cloud Office and start going through the paperwork. It also meant she could kill anyone who interfered with her. Someone would – that was almost a given. It would be interesting to see how she handled it, considering she hated killing.

Lussuria hummed. "I'll go tell Mammon and Bel once we're finished here; they'll want in on this too. I think I'll put you in one of Bel's old uniforms for now Amsel; it'll do until I can make one up for you. It won't take me long to change the crest." The Sun disappeared out of the office, returning a few minutes later with one of the uniforms Belphegor had grown out of and a new Cloud Officer patch. The patches were quickly switched, and the three Officers headed out. Time to find out what Ottabio had been up to.

* * *

Ivy had never been in Cloud Division before. As an apprentice she never really had any reason to go there and avoiding that area had been one of the easiest ways to avoid running into the creepy Cloud Officer. Curious looks and questions followed her through the halls as she made her way towards the Cloud Office. Just as she was about to reach the door, someone stepped in front of her.

"Where do you think you're going?" The burly Cloud in front of her asked.

"To my office," Ivy replied mildly, her hand reaching for a kunai she had stashed up her sleeve. Squalo had stepped back, leaving her to deal with the situation on her own, as she had expected. She would have to prove herself capable of handling her new position.

The man laughed at her. "You aren't the Cloud Officer; Ottabio is. Take that patch off and go play with your dolls. The Varia is no place for little girls."

Ivy's eyes narrowed at the insult. Today had not been a good day and she was in no mood tolerate being mocked. She had attained this position by her own strength, whether she wanted it or not. Just because she preferred to settle things peacefully didn't mean she wasn't dangerous. "Haven't you heard? Ottabio's dead. By my hand. Would you like to join him?" she threatened, kunai in hand. Normally she wouldn't bother resorting to violence over insults, but she needed to establish her authority here quickly.

"You really expect me to believe that a little girl got the best of Ottabio?" the assassin asked, laughter in his tone. Ivy gave in to her Cloudy instincts, already on high alert from being shot earlier, and threw the kunai with lightning speed, leaving a long gash on the man's cheek.

"You will address me as Officer or Amsel. I would not be standing here wearing this patch if Ottabio was not dead," Ivy said coolly. "I believe Housekeeping have the body if you want more definite proof, though last I checked no one has ever survived being beheaded." The enraged assassin reached for a weapon. Ivy did not give him chance to draw it; another Flame-sharpened kunai sliced through his carotid artery. As the man staggered back, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood, Ivy forced herself to remain calm.

"Anyone else?" she asked, staring challengingly at the assembled assassins. Hopefully she would not have to kill again today. She knew she would likely have to kill again soon – Ottabio's followers would not be happy their Officer was killed, and other ambitious Clouds would see her as an easy target – but two in one day was enough. No one else stepped forward, allowing her to enter the office with no further issues.

The Cloud Office was large and tidy, with shelves above the desk and the paperwork in neat piles. Ivy headed straight for the desk, ignoring the paperwork on top for now, and started checking the drawers. One of them was locked. She called on her magic and focused on the lock, forcing it open. Magic was much harder to control without a focus; she needed to see about a new wand soon. Inside the drawer was more paperwork, specifically bank statements.

"Captain, I think you might want to see this. Either Officers get a _very_ healthy paycheck or Ottabio was charging a fair bit for his services." She held out the documents for Squalo to take while she pulled the rest of them out. As he started reading Ivy went back to digging in the drawers and paperwork piles, revealing yet more incriminating documents.

"Voi, that shit was selling information to Sawada!" Squalo snarled as he read through the papers.

"Judging from the amounts, he was selling to more than just the CEDEF. These go back over seven years," Ivy told him, handing some papers to Mammon, who had just arrived. Both of the more experienced Officers looked up from their work at her.

"Seven years? Are you sure?" Mammon asked. Ivy nodded and handed over the relevant papers. Mammon scanned through them. "These aren't CEDEF account numbers or Sawada's; I'd put good money on them belonging to someone in the Vongola though. This was how they knew."

"I think I'm missing something rather important here," Ivy muttered.

"The Cradle Affair," Squalo answered her unasked question. "Boss' attack on Don Vongola. We always wondered how they knew we were coming; now we know."

Ivy didn't know who Boss was, and she got the feeling now would not be the best time to ask. Instead, she turned her attention to sorting and boxing the files so Mammon and Squalo could set about finding out who Ottabio had been selling information to and what they knew.

* * *

On a lonely windswept beach in northern France, a strangely dressed man suddenly appeared out of thin air. Looking around to check he was truly alone, the man twirled a stick and his odd robes became more typical clothing.

Sirius was travelling alone. His search of the Black Library had revealed that the ICW laws on werewolves moving between countries were incredibly strict. Werewolves were not allowed to leave the country they had been infected in and were expected the register with the Ministry of that country. Any werewolf attempting to enter an ICW affiliated country would be turned back at the border, and anyone aiding them entering a country illegally – like Sirius had originally been planning – faced deportation and a ten-year prison sentence. With the warrant out on his head, that meant Sirius would have gotten the Kiss if they were caught. When he had given Remus the option of coming with him his friend had refused, not wanting to put Sirius' life at risk. Instead, Moony had offered to keep Sirius up to date on what was happening in Britain while he searched for Ivy, using money Sirius had given him to purchase an owl for that purpose.

Almost as though summoned by that thought, Sirius' new owl Polaris landed on his shoulder, having been sent on ahead a few hours prior to have time to fly the Channel. Sirius stroked the owl's breast feathers lightly and pulled out a package from his pocket. It was one of a set of two communication mirrors he and James had used at school to talk while in detention. Since Polaris would be spending a lot of time flying back and forth to Britain, and Ivy was likely having Hedwig do the same, it made sense for them to have another method of communication. Sirius tied the precious parcel to the owl's leg along with a note explaining what it was.

"Fly fast and stay safe," he said to the owl. Polaris hooted and nibbled his ear affectionately before taking to the air. Sirius watched him go before closing his eyes and focusing on the godparent bond to find the direction Ivy was in. Once he knew that, he would simply apparate by line-of-sight as far as he could, switching to muggle transport in more populated areas. The Blacks had various properties dotted around Europe, so he didn't need to worry about accommodation; being Lord Black had some benefits. He would need to stop in Paris to change the galleons Remus had withdrawn for him to the local muggle currency, but other than that he had everything he needed.

The bond was pulling southwards, deeper into France. Sirius trudged up the beach in that direction until he was high enough up to get a good view. A twist and a crack, and the beach was empty once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊. Sorry for the long wait, I've been buried in coursework.

* * *

_Ivy was stood looking contemplatively out of the window of the comfortable room she was in. A knock at the door alerted her to a presence. "Enter."_

_Lucius Malfoy entered the room and bowed. "My Lord."_

"_Report," she commanded in a high male voice._

"_My Lord, I have done as you commanded. I managed to place Broderick Bode under the Imperius Curse and commanded him to retrieve what You desire. He put up an unusual amount of resistance, but he will carry out his assigned task. It should be Yours in a matter of days," the blonde aristocrat reported. _

_Ivy felt a thin cruel smile spread across her lips. Hopefully Avery's suggestion would work better than their previous attempt. "Good. Anything else?"_

"_Only that Greyback has sent word that the packs have rallied to Your banner and will fight at Your command. There has not yet been any word from Your envoy to the giants, but given the distance involved that was to be expected."_

"_Then leave me." Malfoy bowed again and left. She turned back to her contemplation of the darkened countryside, her pale snake-like face and red eyes reflected in the darkened glass. So far, everything was going according to plan. Soon she would have the means to deal with Ivy Potter once and for all, and then she would be unstoppable._

* * *

Ivy jolted awake with a start, her scar burning. She pressed her hand to the scar to try and ease the pain as she forced her breathing back to a more normal rate. What the hell had just happened? She knew it was a nightmare, but it was much different from the normal ones. She had seen everything from Voldemort's perspective – the reflection in the glass had told her as much. She had spoken his words, felt his pleasure at the news Malfoy senior had brought. It was like she had _been_ him. This… this was serious. If she really had been Voldemort… She needed help. Magical help. Swinging her legs out of bed, she glanced at the clock. The glowing face informed her it was 00:30. She'd only had two hours of sleep. Nowhere near enough, especially not with the busy week she'd had, but she didn't dare go back to sleep and risk another nightmare-vision.

Ivy's first week as Cloud Officer had been hectic. Cleaning out Ottabio's rooms had revealed further evidence of his treachery, which Squalo and Mammon were sorting through. One of the unknown account numbers on the bank statements she had found on the first day had been linked back to Don Vongola's Cloud Guardian; those Officers present for the Cradle Affair had been absolutely furious about that discovery. Then there had been the introduction to the Lightning and Storm Officers, who had both been out on missions the day Ivy killed Ottabio. Prince Belphegor had been both pouty and pleased upon discovering Ottabio's death and treachery; pouty because Ottabio had been murdered while he was out of the building, thus denying him the opportunity to witness the deed, and pleased because he hated the former Cloud Officer and Ivy had demonstrated appropriate manners when being introduced to him. Despite his psychopathic tendencies and stuck-up attitude, Ivy felt that she would be able to work with the genius Storm Officer. Officer Leviathan, on the other hand, was a different story. She had only met the man once and that had been enough for her to decide she didn't like him. There was something about the Lightning Officer that didn't sit right with her. Ivy resolved to follow the example of her fellow Officers and have as little to do with Levi outside of a professional setting as possible.

Then there was the paperwork, dealing with attempts on her life, memorising the Names and specialities of her Division members, being dragged on a shopping trip when Luss found out that all of her clothes except her uniform were hand-me-downs, appointing a new GM after the old one tried to kill her… It had been a long week and the nightmares were not helping. This new development meant she couldn't put off dealing with them any longer. She needed to speak with Mammon. It was unlikely the tiny miser was awake at this hour, but that gave her time to prepare the strawberry shortcake that had already bought her lessons in wandlessly checking her post for spells and an agreement to accompany her to Gringotts Syracuse this coming weekend to help her gain access to her vaults.

Ivy started getting dressed. She needed something to do for a few hours. The library should be quiet enough at this time of night that she could read and regain her equilibrium in peace.

* * *

Mammon had been at their desk for less than an hour when Amsel entered their office.

"Time is money, do not waste mine," they said as the youngest Officer shut the door behind her.

"I need your help." That was a rare admission for anyone with Cloud Flames to make, especially in the Varia. Mammon gave Amsel their full attention. "I keep having strange and disturbing dreams and experiencing flashes of emotion that are not my own. Each time these things happen my scar starts to burn. Last night I had some sort of vision, seen through Voldemort's eyes," Amsel explained, indicating the famous lightning bolt scar on her forehead.

Mammon's eyes narrowed under their hood. The scar she received the night she survived Voldemort's attack burned when she had these visions. The same scar that felt odd to their magic when they first met a few months ago. They floated up off the desk, hovering so their eyes were level with the scar. Up close it looked more like a sowilo rune than a lightning bolt. For the first time in decades they actively called on their magic, enhancing their magical sensitivity and directing it towards the famous scar.

Black magic of the foulest kind radiated from the scar. It took everything Mammon had not to flinch away from the disgusting thing. How long had that been there?

"When was the last time your scar was examined by a Healer?" Mammon demanded. Someone else had to have noticed this before. Amsel's own magic was doing its best to fight and supress the foreign magic, which was why Mammon hadn't noticed it properly before, but surely someone else had noticed the tainted area and investigated.

"I don't think it ever has been," Amsel replied after a pause. "I've been in the school infirmary multiple times but, as far as I know, no one ever checked my scar."

What?! That was Stupidity of the highest order! "You mean to say no one has ever thought to check the large concentration of _black magic_ lodged in your scar?" Amsel rapidly paled as she shook her head. "We're going to Syracuse. Now." Mammon landed on Amsel's shoulder and the two disappeared in a flare of Mist.

* * *

Upon arriving in a random alleyway in Syracuse, Mammon cloaked themselves in an illusion and strode off purposefully. Ivy hurried to keep up, her mind reeling from what Mammon had just told her. There was _black magic_ in her scar! Was it connected to the dreams she kept having, or her ability to feel Voldemort's spikes of emotion? Ivy didn't know, but there was one thing she was sure of; this thing was coming out of her head today.

Ivy followed close behind as Mammon ducked down a dead-end alley with a bricked-up arch at the end of it. They reached out and tapped the side of the arch in a rhythmic pattern, causing the bricks to melt away and revealing the entrance to Piazza degli Stregoni, Sicily's magical district.

"We will stop at Gringotts first. You'll need access to your gold in order to pay for treatment," Mammon informed her as they made their way into the plaza. Ivy nodded, trying to take in the sights as she hurried along beside the illusioned miser. She would have to come back here when the situation wasn't so urgent.

Gringotts was quite quiet so early in the morning, so they didn't have to wait long before they reached a teller. "Good morning. Miss Ivy Potter would like to access her vault." Ivy said politely.

"Do you have your key?" the goblin asked in a tone much politer than Ivy had heard from a goblin before.

Ivy shook her head. Her Gringotts key was still in her satchel, which was protected by Flame security and trapped to high heaven, back at the Varia. "I'm afraid not. We left in such a hurry I didn't have time to grab it."

"We need to verify your identity before we allow you access to your vault. Follow me." The teller led them to one of the offices, where they were left with another goblin.

"Fill the bowl to the line with blood," the goblin at the desk said in a no-nonsense tone, placing a wooden bowl, a knife, and a red quill on the desk. Ivy took the knife and cut herself near the basilisk bite scar; the venom had damaged the sensory nerves in that area, so cutting there didn't hurt. Once the bowl held the required amount of blood, she subtly called on her Flames to staunch the bleeding and speed up her healing. The goblin placed the quill in the bowl for a minute and then placed it on the parchment laid out on the desk. The quill stood still for a moment before it began writing. Once finished, the quill fell on the desk. The goblin threw the bowl and quill in the fire and used a spell to clean the knife before picking up the parchment.

"Your identity is confirmed, Heir Potter. You may access your trust vault and your mother's personal vault freely but cannot access the Potter family vault until you have passed the Wizarding International Competency Tests, or WICTs, and can claim the Lordship ring," the goblin informed her as they scanned the parchment.

"Lordship rings are normally claimed after Proficiency Tests," Mammon pointed out in a questioning tone.

The goblin nodded. "Normally that is the case, but Heir Potter is currently the sole member of House Potter, so the rules are relaxed a bit. You can claim the Heir ring for House Potter now if you wish."

Ivy thought for a few moments. "I don't think I'll pick up the Heir ring, not today at least. I'd rather not have anything official that can be used to trace me here. I would like to request that access to all of my vaults be limited to myself and my future children. I would also like any payments from any of my vaults set up after Halloween 1981 to be cancelled, including those to Hogwarts; I will be continuing my education in Sicily. Any other payments set up after that cut-off date need to be reclaimed, as I certainly haven't authorised anything." Her vault key had been with Dumbledore for the better part of ten years. Ivy didn't think he would stoop to stealing from her, but she wasn't taking any chances. Time and distance had allowed her to look at the Headmaster's actions towards her in a clearer light. The goblin nodded again and made a note.

"Who is her registered magical guardian?" Mammon asked. Ivy looked at them curiously.

"Magical guardian?"

"The person in the magical world responsible for the welfare of the mundane-born and -raised, especially orphans. They are supposed to help them integrate into magical society. Yours is Albus Dumbledore," the goblin said.

That was potentially a very big problem. Dumbledore being her guardian meant he would likely be informed when she got treatment for her scar, which would allow him to find her. "Is there any way I can change my magical guardian? Preferably without notifying them before hand?"

"If you can prove dereliction of duty, yes. Otherwise you will have to wait until you can claim Ladyship of House Potter," the goblin informed her

"I would say leaving my scar full of black magic counts. But who to change it too?" Ivy mumbled as she considered her options. Sirius an option, since he was out of Britain – she had taken to carrying the communication mirror he had sent her in her jacket pocket, so it wouldn't be hard to get hold of him – but the fact he was a wanted criminal counted against him. Remus was out too, since he was still in Britain and there was the lycanthropy issue. The only other magical she could think of was Mammon…

"Black magic? In your scar?" the goblin asked sternly. Ivy nodded.

"The scar is radiating so much black magic even a squib could sense it, and Dumbledore has not seen fit to deal with it. We will be dealing with it once we are finished here," Mammon said.

"That is certainly grounds for removal of guardianship," the goblin agreed.

Ivy turned to Mammon. "How much would it cost for me to hire you as my magical guardian until I pass my WICTs?"

The two immediately set to haggling. Mammon eventually agreed to a lower fee when Ivy pointed out - in Japanese, which the goblin hopefully didn't understand or things would get messy very quickly - they could melt the coins down and sell the pure metals in the mundane world rather than deal with the exchange rates, which would allow them to make a lot more money when the market was good. The goblin quickly filled in the necessary paperwork, had the two humans sign, and sent it off to be filed. A glowing copy appeared on the desk a few minutes later, signalling that the change was now binding. With their business concluded, the goblin promptly kicked them out of the office.

Now to deal with the scar.

* * *

Sicily's_ Ospedale magico di San Pellegrino Laziosi_ was not far from the main plaza. Mammon went straight to the main desk, Amsel following behind at a more reluctant pace.

"How can I help you today?" the witch behind the desk asked politely.

"She has a concentration of black magic trapped in a scar on her forehead. It has likely been there for years and nobody seems to have noticed it before I did," Mammon said bluntly, indicating Amsel's scar. The receptionist paled at the mention of black magic.

"P-please go straight up to Curse and Spell Damage on the third floor. I will alert the Healers you're on your way," the receptionist said nervously. Mentioning black magic tended to have that effect. Mammon grabbed Amsel and pulled the reluctant witch towards the stairs.

"Stop dragging your feet or I'll put you in a body bind, float you up the stairs, and charge you for it," Mammon informed Amsel. The young witch said nothing but stopped dragging her feet. There was a Healer waiting for them at the entrance to the ward. "Are you the two sent from downstairs?" Mammon and Amsel nodded. The Healer ushered them into a side room. "Which one of you has the issue?"

"She does. It's lodged in the scar on her forehead," Mammon replied. The Healer nodded and gestured for Amsel to seat herself opposite him.

"I am Guaritore Marino, miss…"

"Potter. Ivy Potter."

"Miss Potter. I need to perform a scan of the scar," Guaritore Marino said, raising his wand. Amsel lifted her bangs to make things easier. Seconds later the Healer was reading a piece of conjured parchment and growing steadily paler. "What curse were you hit with?"

"The Killing Curse," Amsel replied. What little colour the Healer still had vanished.

"I will need to admit you immediately and inform your magical guardian."

"I am her magical guardian. The change was ratified this morning, as her previous guardian is responsible for not treating her condition," Mammon informed him. Guaritore Marino nodded and hurried out of the room.

A few minutes later, Amsel had been admitted to the ward and was undergoing preparations for an emergency curse removal and cleansing. Having given permission for all the necessary procedures, Mammon found a quiet corner to Mist away. Someone would need to inform the Captain they would be without a Cloud Officer for a few days.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

* * *

A flare of Mist was all the warning Squalo had before Mammon appeared in his office a moment later.

"Voi, something the matter?" Squalo asked. It was rather unusual to see the Mist Officer out of their office, and it was equally unusual for them to Mist-warp around the building. It was a privilege Mammon enjoyed due to being the sole controller of the Territory that protected the Varia but one they rarely made use of except in emergencies.

"Amsel will be unavailable for the next few days. She is currently in hospital," Mammon informed him.

"What for?" Varia Medical was much closer and would have been the better place to take her, since Active Flames could affect how some conditions were treated.

"I discovered that she has a previously undiagnosed condition that cannot be treated with Flames and requires specialist attention. I recognised the symptoms and took her to a hospital where there are specialists who can treat her," Mammon replied somewhat evasively. Well, if Amsel had asked them to keep quiet about the nature of her condition and was paying them enough then Mammon wouldn't tell unless her condition presented an immediate threat to others. Squalo was pondering this when there was a knock at the door and Lussuria entered.

"Squalo, Mammon. Have either of you seen Amsel? She's supposed to be on duty in Medical today, but I can't find her. It's not like her to not show up," the flamboyant Sun said worriedly.

"Mammon took her to the hospital," Squalo said, indicating the tiny Mist hovering over his desk.

"How come?" Luss asked, now very concerned.

"Amsel has a condition that cannot be treated with Flames and requires specialist attention. I recognised the symptoms and took her to hospital for specialist treatment," Mammon said briefly.

Lussuria frowned, clearly upset, "I checked her with my Flames during her initial health check and I didn't detect anything like that. How could I have missed it?" Luss took his position as Head of Medical very seriously and was also quite attached to Amsel. Missing something in a health check that later required hospitalisation would be a professional and personal upset.

"Amsel's condition is extremely rare; in order to detect it, you have to know what you're looking for and how to find it. I am aware of both, which is how I was able to detect her condition," Mammon said.

"Would you be willing to tell me more about it?" Lussuria asked. That there would be a fee for such information was a given, but Luss would need as much information as possible in order to monitor Amsel's recovery.

"Amsel has requested I keep quiet about her condition during her treatment. Once she returns, she will be able to tell you more," Mammon replied. Luss did not look happy about that.

Squalo frowned. Why would Amsel request her condition be kept secret, even from Luss? What was so serious or troubling that she didn't want anyone to know? The Cloud had secrets – everyone in the Varia did – but keeping secrets about your health was one way to make Luss very upset. Possibly even to the point where Luss might decide to purposely infect Amsel with a nasty virus that would leave her at the mercy of Medical for a week or so, just to drive home the point.

Still, that wasn't Squalo's problem right now. His problem was that he would be the one having to deal with the Clouds for the next few days, on top of looking after Rain Division and doing Boss' work. Amsel had better have a damned good explanation when she got back.

* * *

Dumbledore glared at the parchment clutched in his hands, seething with rage. He had not opened the letter from Gringotts in the Great Hall but had instead waited until he was safely in the privacy of his office – a wise decision, given the contents and his reaction to them. Ivy had somehow managed to have him removed as her magical guardian. The reason the goblins gave was 'dereliction of duty towards his ward', an accusation that could cause him all manner of problems if it somehow got out.

What had Ivy revealed to have him removed as her magical guardian? Was it the fact he knew about her treatment at the hands of her relatives and had never acted on it? Had she said something about the dangerous tasks she had faced while at school? Ivy's participation in the Triwizard Tournament was well known, though there had been other tests she had faced. Quirrell for instance… Dumbledore shook his head. Unlike the tournament, those were not public knowledge. Still, how had Ivy found out that he was her magical guardian? Had the goblins mentioned it when she went to a branch of Gringotts? How had they persuaded her to have him removed and who had she named in his place? So many questions that would go unanswered until he could find her and bring her back.

Not that it would be a simple task. With his guardianship over Ivy removed he could no longer use the leverage that position gave him to track her down. His best alternative would have been Sirius, but the mutt had vanished a few days ago and no one could say where he was. Not even Remus knew where he was going other than he was looking for Ivy. Albus had sent Sirius a letter requesting information – unspelled, because Black's Lordship ring meant mind magics and tracers wouldn't affect him anyway – but either it hadn't reached him, or he wasn't answering. Albus would simply have to assume the silence meant no information would be forthcoming from the Lord Black. Perhaps he could do something about that once he had the Ministry on his side again, but right now he had other problems to deal with.

The goblins had also somehow found out about the withdrawals he had made from the main Potter vaults and reclaimed them, including several interesting and powerful enchanted items that had been magically reclaimed straight from his office. He would need to see about modifying the Hogwarts Wards to prevent that from happening again; having his research disappear would not do. Even worse, his personal and Family vaults were now subject to an audit, which would also cause no end of trouble if his detractors got wind of it.

This wasn't what he needed right now. Between finding Ivy so she could meet her prophesised end, keeping an eye on Tom so he didn't take over the country before Albus was ready for him, and dealing with the Ministry's constant interference, the last thing he needed was a potential scandal. Ivy's star may have waned in the Ministry's eyes, but she still had some highly placed supporters. Amelia Bones for example… Dumbledore shuddered. He didn't need the Head of the DMLE poking around his castle as well as the Ministry toad.

At least the last issue would resolve itself by year's end. Dolores Umbridge may be steadily gaining power in Hogwarts through the Educational Decrees, but that did not change the fact she was a terrible teacher. The fifth years' OWL scores would prove that the Ministry's interference had been anything but beneficial and Dumbledore would be left to run his school how he saw fit once again.

The sooner the Ministry stopped interfering, the sooner he could turn his full focus to the war effort.

* * *

It had been five days since Mammon had taken Ivy to the hospital. That was three days too long in Ivy's book. She had never had to spend more than two days in the infirmary at Hogwarts, even with her worst injuries. She could understand why the Healers were being cautious though; they were dealing with black magic. Ivy had spent the first day mostly unconscious and the second recovering while getting to grips with her vastly increased magical power, since she was no longer having to suppress the black magic in her scar. According to the Healers, having her full power unlocked would help reverse some of the damage done by the years of starvation and abuse she suffered at the Dursleys, so she could expect another growth spurt soon.

The next three days had been spent being poked, prodded, analysed, and questioned repeatedly by what felt like every Healer in the building. She could kind of understand the involvement of the Mind Healers – even she knew the darker magics had an effect on the mind, and she had spent nearly fourteen years with some of the darkest trapped in her scar – but why the investigative team from the Ministry?! The Italian Ministry's Unspeakables had spent an entire afternoon probing her now much reduced scar and questioning her about the effects. Guaritore Marino had eventually ordered them out so she could eat her dinner in peace.

There was also the fact that, despite the constant assessments, Ivy was bored out of her mind. There wasn't much in the way of entertainment in the hospital other than a few books she asked Mammon to bring and calling Sirius on her mirror. After Sirius had sent her the mirror Ivy had encouraged him to take his time, give himself some space to start healing, and enjoy his trip across Europe. Her five days in Paris and the time she had spent with the Varia had done wonders for her own mental health, and she could tell that being away from Britain was helping Sirius too. Her godfather had been panicked when he heard she was in hospital, then downright furious when he heard why she needed treatment. Ivy had to do some fast talking to prevent him returning to Britain to strangle Dumbledore with his own beard and persuade him not to cut his trip short and come to Syracuse. She would much rather their reunion wasn't in a hospital.

* * *

Ivy was engaged in in a glaring match with Guaritore Marino when Mammon arrived on the morning of day six.

"Mammon, thank Merlin. Get me out of here," Ivy demanded. She wanted out of here _now_.

Mammon turned to Guaritore Marino. "Is she well enough to leave?"

"Yes, but I feel it prudent for her to remain here for a few more days in case of unforeseen complications," the Healer replied. Ivy wasn't having this. She was leaving this hospital, with its smell of bleach that brought back horrible memories, by hook or by crook. Today.

"Guaritore Marino, is there a risk of the black magic that infected my scar returning?" Ivy asked short-temperedly. She really shouldn't be being so snappish with the man, but she would not submit to a fourth day of prodding!

"No, there is not. The cleansing worked perfectly, and our scans have so no sign of any residue or return," Guaritore Marino replied.

"Are there any lingering effects on my magic besides my drastic increase in strength?" Ivy pressed.

"No, there are not."

"And would you agree that my control has improved sufficiently that I am no longer a danger to myself and others, and I am able to resume my studies safely?"

"Yes."

"Do any of the potions I was given to correct some of the issues caused by my upbringing have delayed side effects, specifically the kind which may be injurious to my health or the health of those around me?"

"No," the Healer replied, his tone indicating he knew he had lost this fight and wasn't happy about it.

"Lastly, am I in imminent danger of dropping dead from either magic, injury, or illness?"

"No," Guaritore Marino replied.

"Then I see no reason why I should remain here if I am well enough to leave; there is no point me taking up the time of a specialist like yourself if I am cured of my affliction. I am no longer suffering from visions and my nightmares are just the regular kind. The only continuing treatment I require that cannot be provided by my regular physician is the therapy I am undergoing with the Mind Healers, which can easily be done on an outpatient basis," Ivy said. Guaritore Marino looked to Mammon as though for support but found none.

"If Ivy is well enough then there is no reason for her to remain here. As she pointed out, most of the likely physical effects from the rituals can be dealt with at home, and the Mind Healers will be monitoring her," Mammon said.

Guaritore Marino sighed, "Very well. I will sign the release forms and compile a copy of your notes for your regular Healer." Ivy's heart sank a bit at the mention of the notes – she was going to have to tell Luss about magic now and that was going to open a whole new can of worms – but it quickly buoyed back up at the thought of getting out of the hospital. It didn't take long for Guaritore Marino to return with the parchment-work, a list of instructions from the Mind Healers, and a large tub of salve.

"This Scar Reducing salve will help get rid of your scars. The older ones will take longer but they will eventually fade from sight. Use it once in the morning and once at night until the scars are gone," Guaritore Marino instructed as he handed her the tub and the parchment.

"Thank you, Guaritore Marino. The care I have received here has been nothing but the best," Ivy said as she accepted the items. After that, it was just a matter of packing her things and high tailing it out of there before anyone could come up with an excuse to hold her back.

"Freedom!" Ivy said gleefully as she left the hospital with Mammon at her side. "Which one of us is going to tell Luss about magic and explain the notes?"

"You are. I've already informed Lussuria and Squalo that you will be the one explaining what required you to be hospitalised rather than go to Medical," Mammon replied in their usual bland tone. Ivy could feel the amusement rolling off the Mist as she scowled.

"Great," she bit out sarcastically. "Why not you? You're a magical adult; I'm still a minor. Legally, it should be you."

"That would have required divulging your medical information, which as your magical guardian I cannot share with anyone other than a qualified magical Healer without your permission. Besides, I told them you asked me to keep it secret. I'll be there to make it look legal, if that's what you're concerned about," the miser replied.

Ivy sighed. "I might as well tell Belphegor too – once I start studying magic again, he'll be one of the first to figure out something strange is going on and start snooping. I'm not telling Leviathan though, or anyone else."

"Acceptable," Mammon agreed. Ivy pulled the Mind Healer's list out of her bag and scanned it.

"I should get what I can off this list while I'm here. I need a new wand and textbooks. According to this list, the Healers want me to get a therapy animal, so I guess we'll be stopping at the pet shop too," she said, ticking off items in her head as they made their way into the plaza. The longer she could put off the inevitable and difficult conversation about magic with her fellow Officers, the better.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

* * *

Shopping for magical supplies didn't take as long as Ivy had hoped it would. The first stop had been the bookshop, where she purchased texts for all seven core subjects as well as texts for Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. Ivy had been taking Ancient Runes self-study since Dumbledore refused to let her switch classes after her first Divination class in third year. After questioning the shopkeeper and discovering that Italian magical schools offered a WICT in Basic Healing, she picked up texts for that too. Learning magical first aid could only benefit her, especially since her Flame qualifications weren't any use outside of the Mafia.

Next stop was the wandmakers. The shop owner was rather curious as to why a fifteen-year-old needed a new wand – it wasn't exactly a common occurrence – but Ivy explained she had been in a potions accident that had destroyed her wand. The shop owner had accepted the lie and set to the task of fitting Ivy for a new wand. This particular wand shop only made custom wands, allowing a customer's magic to choose the best combination of wood and core. Ivy ran her hands over the wand blanks on the table before her. She didn't have to wait long before one of them literally leapt into her hand.

"English Oak, ," the wandmaker said, accepting the blank from Ivy. "A wand of courage, strength, and loyalty; much like those who wield it."

Next came the shelves of cores. There were jars of odd powders, long black strings that Ivy thought were dragon heartstring, dazzling feathers of red and gold, unicorn tail hairs, and other substances Ivy didn't recognise. It was to the feathers her magic drew her, seemingly debating between the gold and the red. Eventually the red feathers won by a small margin.

"Phoenix feather for the core. I thought for a moment you would go for the thunderbird feathers. Both are rare cores and few people react to either, let alone both at once. You're an unusual young lady," the wandmaker commented as Ivy handed over the core. Ivy simply smiled in response. It wasn't long before Ivy left the shop with her new wand tucked away in a Disillusioned wrist holster.

Ivy then went to get the last item on her list; her Healer-mandated therapy pet. As she didn't have anywhere to safely brew potions without being discovered (or anyone to supervise; Mammon had refused) and didn't need any robes, this was the last shop she needed to go in. Entering the shop, she started browsing. She needed a pet that could pass for normal in the mundane world, so that ruled out most of the magical animals. A quick skim of _Fantastic Beasts_ for common wizarding pets narrowed the choice down to an owl, a rat, or a Kneazle hybrid. A rat was right out – Housekeeping would never allow it – and Hedwig would take serious offense at the presence of another owl. That left a Kneazle hybrid. Kneazles themselves were too obvious and required a licence, but a half-Kneazle would be able to pass for a smarter than average cat. Her mind made up, Ivy asked an assistant where such cats could be found. The assistant led her to the back of the store and ushered her into a pen of half-Kneazles. Since Kneazles were incredibly picky about their humans, it made sense to let the cat pick. Ivy crouched down and waited. Eventually, she was approached by a silver tabby kitten who was happy to let her pet it and pick it up. The kitten purred in her arms, instantly making Ivy feel more relaxed. She gathered the supplies she needed for the kitten – who she had named Jellicle – and paid before leaving with Jellicle in a carry basket.

With her shopping done, she couldn't put it off any longer. It was time to go back to the Varia and have the conversation she really wasn't looking forward to.

* * *

Mammon dropped Ivy off in her office, giving her to opportunity to put her things away while they gathered Bel, Luss, and Squalo in Squalo's office. Ivy had to force herself not to dawdle. She really wasn't looking forward to this. What if they reacted like the Dursleys did to magic? What if they thought she was a freak? Ivy might have Mammon in her corner, but that was little comfort. If the other Officers thought she was a threat to the Varia because of her magic and her past, they would have no qualms about doing away with her. She really respected Luss and Squalo and the thought of them calling her a freak…

A tiny meow broke her out of her depressive spiral. When had she unlatched the cat carrier? When had she sat down on the floor? Ivy lifted Jellicle into her lap and cuddled the kitten as she calmed down. It would be ok; she had to believe that. Luss, Squalo, and Bel were all aware of and comfortable with Flames, which could do incredible things in their own right. While Flames were not the same as magic they were similar in some ways, Mist Flames in particular . It would be ok. Still, changing into the armoured Varia uniform and taking Jellicle with her wouldn't hurt.

She also needed to plan the best way to reveal magic. Mammon had told her that they had adjusted the Mist Wards around the building to prevent the detection of underage magic cast within as long as she didn't cast anything illegal. Maybe start a small demonstration? Something that couldn't be construed as a threat to humans and couldn't be replicated by Mist Flames. Perhaps an object to animal Transfiguration would be a good way to start.

As Ivy approached Squalo's office, Jellicle hidden Silenced under a Notice-Me-Not – it wouldn't do for the Cloud Officer to be seen carrying a kitten around, people might get ideas and start trying to kill the cat to get to her – her nerves returned full force. She forced her mind away from the fearful depressive spiral it was trying to sink into as she double-checked she had the folder Guaritore Marino gave her and knocked on the door.

"Voi, come in," Squalo said loudly from the other side. Ivy entered and had to check the urge to bolt at the sight of the Storm, Sun, and Rain Officers all sat waiting for her. Forcing her nerves aside again, she entered the office and shut the door behind her.

"It's good to see you looking so well honey," Luss greeted, his usual smile absent.

Ivy cringed internally; she was in a fair bit of trouble. Outwardly, she nodded to her fellow Officer and gave a small smile. "Thank you, Lussuria. I'm feeling better than I have for a long time."

"The Prince is curious as to why you have seen fit to include the Prince in this meeting, when only the shark and the okama are needed," Belphegor said, flicking a knife idly between his fingers. Ivy nodded politely to the Storm Prince.

"There are certain secrets I need to share in this meeting in order to explain my absence. These secrets affect multiple aspects of my life and revealing them may put those hearing them at risk. I felt it prudent to inform your Highness at the same time as Captain and Lussuria, lest your Highness decide to hunt for information of your own accord. Leviathan has not been invited as I do not trust him to keep my secrets," Ivy explained as she seated herself on Squalo's office sofa and set the file next to her. Mammon floated over from the corner they had been lurking in and settled themselves on top of the file. Ivy felt better having them beside her. Time to begin.

She flicked her wrist, ejecting her wand from its holster and into her hand. A tap removed the Notice-Me-Not and Silencing charms from Jellicle. With her kitten cradled in one arm she waved her wand over Squalo's teacup, transfiguring it into a small tortoise. She gave the three non-magical Officers a minute or two to assure themselves that is really was a tortoise and not an illusion or Mist construct before she turned it back without spilling a single drop of tea.

"That… that wasn't Flames," Squalo said, finding his voice.

"No, it wasn't. That was magic. Magic is real; it can do everything the stories say and so much more," Ivy explained.

"Magicals lived peacefully alongside non-magicals for thousands of years. However, with the emergence of the Spanish Inquisition and the witch hunts, it became necessary to separate ourselves from the rest of the world. In 1692 the International Statute of Secrecy came into force, making the separation legally binding across the globe. Non-magicals could only be told about magic if their spouse or an immediate family member possessed magic, and there are harsh penalties for breaking the Statute. I can tell you about it now because I hired Mammon as my magical guardian after dismissing the old one for dereliction of duty and being bonded under the same Sky can be counted as being close family to them." It was rules lawyering at its finest and likely wouldn't stand up in court due to the soul aspect being illegal, but everyone here was more than capable of keeping secrets.

"You couldn't tell us before because it was illegal, as we didn't fit the criteria," Lussuria clarified. He was clearly still unhappy but less so than before.

Ivy nodded. "Yes. Believe me when I say Wizarding prison makes regular prison look like a boy scout camp, especially the British one. Getting caught breaking the law would potentially result in me being sent back to Britain to serve my sentence there, and that's something I'm trying to avoid at all costs. Most magicals keep quiet about their gifts even in situations where they can tell, since there's still a lot of prejudice out there. The Statute of Secrecy is also very strictly enforced; if there is any risk that non-magicals who have no connection to our world might find out about magic, the Ministries have teams that will wipe their memories to maintain secrecy."

"Let me get this straight, voi. You can tell us about magic because of Mammon, but telling us puts us at risk of people messing with our memories because we know?" Squalo asked bluntly. Ivy cringed slightly. When he put it that way…

"Magic is the reason why I had to go to the hospital; you need to know about it to understand why I was gone. The Statute is a lot like omerta, but enforced by legitimate governments rather than the Mafia. As long as you take the same precautions you do with omerta and play dumb if anything potentially magical happens when me or Mammon aren't around, you should be safe," Ivy explained, stroking Jellicle to calm herself. The reaction so far had been hadn't been too bad, but there was still plenty of time for things to go wrong.

"Start talking, voi" Squalo demanded.

"To explain what was wrong I need to explain a bit about my past. In Britain in the 1970's and early 80's, a Dark wizard calling himself Lord Voldemort was waging war against the established magical government. My parents, James and Lily Potter, both fought against him and his Death Eater followers. They were both very successful, and this earned them the ire of Voldemort. My parents went into hiding not long after I was born. They used a charm called the Fidelius, hiding their home completely from anyone who had not been told the secret of its location by the Secret Keeper. Unfortunately, my parents put their trust in the wrong man, and they were betrayed.

"On October 31st, 1981, Lord Voldemort broke into the house where we were hiding and murdered my parents; my father in the hallway and my mother right in front of me. As she died, I think my mother activated some sort of Ward or protective spell – there's no other explanation for what happened next. Voldemort attempted to kill me with the Killing Curse, a curse with a survival rate of exactly zero before that night. The curse bounced right off me, killing Voldemort and leaving me with a scar on my forehead.

"The scar wasn't the only mark left on me that night. There was black magic trapped within the scar itself. I spent nearly fourteen years with it there, my own magic constantly fighting to suppress it. My scar didn't give me too much trouble until this summer, when I started having disturbing dreams and visions, and experiencing emotions that weren't mine, all of which made my scar burn. Six days ago, it reached a point where I could no longer deal with it. I sought out Mammon, who I already knew was magical, to ask for their help. They realised what was wrong and took me to the hospital."

"I take it having magic is what you meant by 'knowing what to look for'?" Luss asked Mammon.

The miser nodded. "You don't have magic – no Varia other than me and Amsel do – so you wouldn't have been able to pick it up. Flames can't be used to treat magical issues either."

"I have the relevant Healer's notes here; I don't quite understand all of the terminology, but I'll explain what I can. Now that you know about magic I can be more honest with you about my scars and how I got them," Ivy said, handing the notes to Lussuria. Luss accepted them and her implicit peace offering. She had kept secrets out of necessity, but now Luss knew about magic Ivy could see a few more uncomfortable discussions in her future.

"Thank you, sugar. I don't appreciate being lied to, but I understand the necessity in this case," Luss replied, sounding happier than they had at the start of this meeting.

"Umm, are there any free rooms in the castle I could take over for my magic studies? I need somewhere to practise that I can Ward from nosy assassins. Someone will notice eventually and I'd rather no one outside this room knew my secret. That's actually half the reason I invited Belphegor; he'd be one of, if not the first to notice I was up to something and discover my secret," Ivy asked Squalo. Belphegor grinned at the compliment to his awareness.

"Voi, there's space in the dungeons. Just don't blow the castle up," Squalo replied. Ivy could practically see the gears turning in his head as he considered what she had just told them and the implications. She expected Squalo would come and demand more information about magic later.

"Thank you. Mammon has already altered the Mist Wards so my casting won't be detected, as I'm still underage and this is a primarily non-magical area. I'll reinforce that with my own Wards around my workroom once I figure out how to do it," Ivy assured him. A slight frown appeared on Squalo's face, but the fact Mammon had already taken care of the issue seemed to allay his concerns.

With the meeting over the Officers dispersed. Ivy was first out the door, intending to get a snack and a calming hot chocolate before dealing with the paperwork that had undoubtedly built up on her desk. A hand on her shoulder put paid to that idea.

"Would you come and join me in my office, sugar? I want to get stuck into these notes and it'll be easier if you're on hand," Lussuria asked. Looked like Ivy would be having another of those uncomfortable conversations sooner than she thought.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊. I hope everyone's doing well with the current craziness going on.

canis lupus familiaris: The name is pronounced Jelly-cle. Like icicle but with jelly

* * *

Saul Croaker, senior Unspeakable and chief liaison between the British Department of Mysteries and the rest of the world, had been having a quiet day when there was a knock at his office door.

"Come in," he called. A wizard wearing the robes and crest of the Italian Department of Mysteries entered the office, shutting the door behind him and shooting several privacy spells at it before lowering his hood. Saul recognised him as his opposite number from Italy, Matteo Rossi.

"Signor Rossi. What can I do for you?" Saul asked, gesturing for the man to take a seat.

Signor Rossi sat down and pulled out a file from a space-expanded pocket. "A week ago, my department received a message from _Ospedale magico di San Pellegrino Laziosi_ about an unusual case. A British girl had been brought in by her magical guardian with a mass of _black magic_ in trapped in a scar on her forehead. This girl was none other than Ivy-Rose Potter."

Saul's eyebrows shot up. There had been black magic in the poor girl's head?! Lodged in that famous scar?!

"When questioned by the Healers prior to the cleansing ritual to remove the foul taint, Miss Potter stated that, to the best of her knowledge, the scar had not once been checked by a qualified Healer in the almost fourteen years since she acquired it. This is despite it leaking enough black magic that it should have been noticeable to anyone with any level of magical sensitivity," Rossi continued.

"I'm guessing you're not here to offer us the chance to study it?" Saul asked, frowning contemplatively. How on earth had no one noticed this before now if it was as obvious as Rossi claimed? Rossi shook his head. "In that case, one moment please." Saul went over to a locked cabinet behind his desk and retrieved two tumblers and a sealed bottle of Ogden's finest. Alcohol was strongly discouraged while in the Department, but Saul felt his superiors would understand when whatever bad news Rossi had for him was relayed to them. Pouring both of them a small tot of whiskey, he gestured for Rossi to continue.

"The magic taken from Miss Potter's scar contains a piece of soul that, given the time frame, we are certain belongs to Voldemort. The scar was a Horcrux."

"WHAT?!" Someone had made one of those foul abominations?! And put it in a child's head?! Saul grabbed the file Rossi had placed on the table and started reading.

"You heard me. The amount of soul in the magical residue is tiny – barely large enough to act as an anchor. We believe that this Horcrux was created accidentally when Voldemort died that night. This would only be possible if Voldemort had made more Horcruxes prior to that night; enough that his soul was so unstable that a tiny part broke off when he was hit by whatever killed him that night and lodged itself in Miss Potter's scar. It seems that there was some sort of protection magic on Miss Potter that weakened the thing's hold on her; we believe it may have been a form of sacrificial magic, exchanging one life for another, which would explain what happened that night. Whatever it was, it made removing the Horcrux far easier than it would have been otherwise. Miss Potter has been fully cleansed of the taint and is now receiving psychological help for the aftereffects ," Rossi told him.

Saul set the file down and took a sip of his desperately needed drink, his mind whirling. Voldemort – he supressed a shudder at the name – had made Horcruxes. Enough that his soul had been so fragile a bit broke off when he died. That meant there were more of the abominations out there. "We need a way to track the things down."

"Already started. I've been authorised to give your Department as much assistance as possible in this matter; hunting down those abominations is a priority for all Unspeakables," Rossi said.

Saul nodded gratefully. "You have my thanks, Rossi. We also need to figure out how he found out how to make them; I think a visit to the Hogwarts library may need to be arranged. Before we do any of that though, I need to give the higher-ups the bad news." He tossed back the last of his drink.

"This is good whiskey," Rossi said as he finished his own drink.

"You'll need it; you're coming with me," Saul replied, grabbing the file and leading the way out of the office. His day just got a whole lot busier.

* * *

Ivy felt the discussion with Luss went about as well as it could have. She had spent the first hour taking Luss through the Healer's notes and translating what magical terms she could understand. The flamboyant Sun had been very unhappy hearing that she had been left with something so dangerous and detrimental to her health trapped in her scar for so long. Luss getting upset on her behalf was… strangely heart-warming and not something Ivy was used to.

Then there came the scars. Luss had insisted on double-checking the much-reduced scar on her forehead, which Ivy allowed since the okama was clearly still upset. Next was the confirmation that yes, the scars on her back were from abuse by her mundane relatives, as were most of the others. Then she had to explain the magically-acquired injuries; the story of having to regrow all the bones in her right arm after that fool Lockhart vanished them got a chuckle and a sympathetic wince from Luss.

Admitting that the scar on her right forearm was from a sixty-foot Basilisk… yeah, that didn't go down well at all, despite Ivy's assurances that the phoenix tears had taken care of the venom, and the scar was the only thing that remained. Luss had grabbed Ivy and dragged her down to Medical for a blood test. Ivy wasn't even sure the tests Luss wanted to do would work – machines and magic didn't mix well at all, and she wasn't sure if there was any venom left in her blood after so long – but she allowed the samples to be taken anyway. The last thing she needed was Luss getting upset and deciding she wasn't looking after herself. Still, her patience, already worn down by three days of continuous magical prodding, was stretching dangerously thin. Thankfully, Luss had recognised the warning signs of a Cloud on the verge of snapping and released her for the day.

When she got back to her office, she found a note from Squalo demanding all the information she could give him on magic and Magical Britain. Figuring this was punishment for unintentionally adding to the Captain's already large workload, Ivy set to work. She made sure to note right at the start that non-magicals couldn't see most spells, although they could see the effects and be affected by them. Explaining the blood status system and its effect on British wizarding culture was a headache; she had resorted to charts and diagrams for that bit, as well as the explanation of how Dumbledore managed to be in charge of everything without actually running the country. Still, she got it done. She then folded it into a paper airplane, charmed it so it would only be visible to the recipient (thank you, new Charms book) and then charmed it to fly to his office. Now she could finally get started on the paperwork that had built up in her five-day absence. A small meow caused her to look down at Jellicle, who was gnawing on her jacket. She would start right after the fed the cat. And herself.

* * *

Sirius stood halfway up the long driveway, looking at the castle before him. He could smell the faint scent of blood and decay from here. He didn't like this place, but his magic was telling him his pup was in there. He had wanted to surprise her, but something about this place was telling him that is probably wasn't the best idea. Still, he wanted to see Ivy again, so in he would go.

Padfoot trotted up the driveway towards the front doors, resolutely ignoring the smell of blood growing stronger with every step. Ivy had told him these people were her friends, and they had helped her with her scar. Besides, there were a few reasons why the place would smell of blood; there could be vampires living here and his pup either hadn't realised or didn't think it was important. After all, she didn't judge Remus for being a werewolf.

As Padfoot neared the doors he heard a hiss from behind him. Turning around, he came face to face with a larger than average cat. Scratch that, several larger than average cats. Much larger. All hissing. At him.

Padfoot growled; no cat was going to stop him seeing his pup.

That was the wrong thing to do.

* * *

Ivy had made good progress with her paperwork when Wraith – formerly Jinx – appeared in her doorway.

"Amsel, you've got to see this! It's hilarious!" the Mist said, bouncing eagerly on her toes.

"What?" Amsel asked, setting her pen aside. Anything that had her friend so excited was bound to be amusing.

"There's a huge Irish Wolfhound outside being chased up and down the front garden by the cats!" Wraith giggled as the pair headed outside. Amsel had to smile. The Varia's cats were mainly for pest control, but also doubled as a security feature. Various assassins had brought home several non-domestic felines over the years, which had interbred with the resident domestic cats to various degrees. Add in Flames and you got the rather large and intelligent cats they had today. Amsel suspected from their behaviour that there was a Kneazle in there somewhere.

Wait, Irish Wolfhound?

Ivy sped up. Irish Wolfhounds were not common dogs in Italy. The chances of this one being a stray and just happening to find its way to the Varia were astronomically small.

The two teens made it to the front door to find a large group of assassins laughing as a large black Irish Wolfhound sped past, closely followed by a clowder of hissing and spitting Varia cats. Several people were recording the scene for posterity.

Ivy managed to get a good look at the dog on its way back. Yep, it was Sirius alright. How he pissed off the cats was anyone's guess. She debated for a moment about whether she should let the entertainment continue, then decided against it. Sirius had learned his lesson about sneaking into the Varia while dog shaped. Ivy forced her way to the front of the crowd.

"Padfoot!" she called. Sirius turned his head at her call and quickly changed direction, dodging the cat trying to pounce on him. He charged towards her at full speed and knocked her off her feet.

"Hey Paddy. What're you doing here boy? Hahaha! Stop it! Hahaha! Bad Padfoot!" Ivy laughed as her dog-father proceeded to drown her in dog slobber.

"Is this your dog Officer?" Alkyón of Storm Division asked, laughter in his voice. Ivy made a mental note to retrieve the recordings of this as soon as she could, preferably before Mammon got hold of them.

"No, he's my godfather's. If Padfoot's here then he can't be far behind. I'd better go head him off before he gets here," Ivy said, pulling herself upright and placing a hand on Sirius' neck. She spotted Wraith talking to one of the assassins who had been recording the incident – likely bargaining for a copy, the traitor. Ivy set off down the drive, Padfoot in tow.

* * *

Once they were well out of sight of the Varia – and she had checked for any nosy Varia following them – she turned to Sirius.

"You can turn back now."

Sirius shifted back into human form and hugged her tightly. "Oh pup, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too Sirius," Ivy replied, hugging him back just as tightly.

Sirius placed his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length. "You've grown, pup," he said in a mock accusing tone.

Ivy laughed, "It's amazing what the right diet, regular exercise, and having full access to my core can do. You're looking much better as well."

"I feel much better. You were right; I did need a little time to myself. I have to ask, why did that man call you Officer?" Sirius asked.

Ivy's mind raced for a moment. "He called me Officer because I am his superior. Everyone in that castle works for the international branch of a very large muggle company."

"You're only fifteen though. You don't even have your OWLs yet."

"I initially went in as a member of the Housekeeping Division that sees to the castle's upkeep – they take a lot of teenagers looking for work and somewhere to stay. One of the other Officers noticed I had a knack for the work and took me on. The promotion to Officer is pretty recent; the old Officer disappeared suddenly, and my mentor recommended me to replace him while they figure out where he is and if he's coming back. I'm purely admin for now though; they're not going to send me out to do business until I can pass for eighteen," Ivy said, spinning her lie. She felt bad lying to Sirius, but she couldn't tell him the truth. That would drag him into omerta and into more danger than he was already in because of his fugitive status. Besides, she wasn't so much lying as re-wording the facts: she had originally been in Housekeeping, as that was where all underage recruits went; Luss had noticed she had a knack for Medical work early on in her job; Ottabio had seemingly disappeared until Ivy admitted to killing him; and Squalo confirming her promotion could be twisted to say he'd given her the promotion. Not quite a lie but not really the truth either. She couldn't tell him what really happened; he'd freak out and try to drag her away, despite the fact she was happy and settled here.

Sirius nodded, accepting the lie. "Ah, ok. But what about the smell of blood? It's pretty fresh."

"There's a lot of game around here and some of the guys like to hunt. There's an on-site butchery," Ivy explained. It even had the benefit of being true. Sirius gave her a funny look but accepted her explanation.

"How about you come back to mine and we have a proper catch-up? Talking on the mirror is all well and good, but its not the same as talking face-to-face," Sirius suggested hopefully.

"I've got a lot of work to catch up on today – I've been in hospital for five days and I swear the paperwork is breeding – but how about tomorrow? It's a Sunday, so I'll be free," Ivy offered, having seen the man wilt at the mention of her having work.

Sirius bounced back like a Puffskein off a rubber wall. "That's great. I'll come and pick you up from the end of the road. I'm staying in the Black Villa near Syracuse, so I'll have to Apparate you there and back."

"It's set then. I'll meet you at the end of the road at 11 o'clock tomorrow morning," Ivy said with a smile. Sirius smiled back and she pulled him back into another hug. She hadn't realised just how much she'd missed him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

Black Dragoniss: Questions are always welcome; they give me new ideas for parts of the story. The answer to your question begins this chapter

Ghostisreading: Ivy has already told Sirius about why she is in hospital – see chapter 9

Elfin69: Bel is currently fifteen – his birthday is in December. Pairings are a secret 😉

* * *

Hermione Granger was not a happy witch. The reason for her unhappiness was short, fat, toad-shaped, and wore horrible pink cardigans. Professor Umbridge was a truly terrible teacher and completely undeserving of the title. They had learned absolutely nothing in their Defence classes so far this year and that didn't look set to change any time soon. The set text could basically be boiled down to 'run away and tell the nearest authority figure'. At this rate the whole year would fail their Defence OWL.

Life in general was going downhill at Hogwarts. The Slytherins swaggered about doing whatever they wanted, confident in their power while sucking up to the Ministry stooge posing as a teacher. Educational Decrees were being passed with increasing frequency, curbing the freedoms of the students. And don't get her started on Umbridge's detentions. The marks on the hands of the muggleborns and half-bloods that had served detention with the toad made Hermione's blood boil. She had read Orwell's 1984 – she could see exactly what was happening here. She was profoundly grateful that Wizarding Britain didn't have much of a market for muggle literature; things were getting bad enough without dystopian novels giving the Purebloods or the Ministry ideas. Hermione desperately needed an outlet for her frustrations and a practical Defence study group would do quite nicely.

Neville had noticed the mutinous look on the bushy-haired girl's face. "Hermione? Are you alright?"

"No Neville, I'm not alright. The way things are going, we're going to fail our Defence OWL. Even worse, we won't be able to defend ourselves if we ever get in trouble. If Umbridge won't teach us then we'll have to teach ourselves," Hermione replied quietly, still looking mutinous.

"If you're setting up a defence club, I want in," Luna whispered from Neville's other side. The little blonde Ravenclaw had picked up the habit of eating at the Gryffindor table when she first befriended Ivy, preferring to sit with her friends rather than her housemates. There had been a few minor complaints at first - mostly from a certain red-haired troglodyte - but nobody really mentioned it anymore.

"Who's going to teach it?" Neville asked as the three of them left the Great Hall in search of somewhere quieter to plot. If Umbridge overheard what they were planning, you could bet the next Educational Decree would be one banning clubs and student groups.

"If Ivy were still here I would have asked her to teach us," Hermione admitted. Ivy was the best in their year at Defence and would have been perfect for this job.

"She still can," Luna said. Hermione and Neville turned to her, curious looks on her faces. "Charmed mirrors can communicate anywhere, any time. They're much quicker than owls too."

"That could work," Hermione said thoughtfully. Ivy would be able to demonstrate the spells like the regular teachers did and answer questions for those who were struggling. She would need assistants to provide more practical support for struggling students, but it was doable.

"You'll still need to ask her first," Neville pointed out.

"Good point. I'll ask her in my next letter," Hermione decided. If Ivy said no then it wouldn't be the end of the world. There were other students in their year who were good at Defence; they just weren't as good as Ivy. If Ivy did say yes then they needed a way to communicate meeting times that didn't involve sending multiple letters back and forth. They would need a secrecy contract too, to ensure Umbridge didn't find out, and somewhere to hold the class. There were plenty of unused rooms in the castle, so it would simply be a matter of picking one in a suitably discreet location and making sure anyone trying to find it who wasn't part of the club would have a very hard time doing so. She could bounce some ideas off Luna and Neville and see what they came up with.

* * *

Ivy read through the letter in her hand, the other sharing a plate of bacon between Hedwig and Jellicle. Hedwig had initially been a bit miffed that Ivy had gotten another familiar, but she had soon warmed up to the kitten when she realised a cute kitten nearby meant more bacon for both of them.

Things must be getting bad at Hogwarts if Hermione was considering setting up an underground defence club. The older witch was the most rule abiding of their little quartet – though her authority worship was nowhere near as bad as it used to be – so for her to go against authority was serious. Hermione's proposal that Ivy teach the club and Luna's suggestion of using enlarged Charmed mirrors were interesting ones. Ivy would have to ask Sirius to buy a couple of sets of communication mirrors to experiment with and ask if he would help her test Luna's idea when she saw him on Saturday for her Potions and Heir lessons.

Sirius had agreed to help to arrange Potions tuition at his villa – since that was one subject she couldn't safely study by herself – and he had started giving her lessons on her family history and position after she had asked what he knew about her family history. Finding out that the Potters were considered an Ancient House due to their long history and had a seat on the Wizengamot had come as a bit of a shock; nobody had ever mentioned it before Sirius told her.

Ivy tended to spend most of the weekend with her godfather, having lessons on Saturday and spending Sunday doing whatever took their fancy. Most Varia who had relatives living nearby and were actually on speaking terms with them tended to visit those relatives at weekends when not working, so her absence was not seen as unusual. As she was an Officer she needed to be contactable in case of emergencies, which caused a bit of an issue when the Wards around Villa Nera messed with her phone, but she was working on finding ways around that. For now, they would just have to keep their excursions to the mundane world; that still gave them plenty of scope though, since it was possible to apparate across to the mainland from Messina.

She set the Hogwarts issue aside for the moment; she couldn't really do anything about it until she had spoken to Sirius and had tested the mirrors. Moving the now empty plate to one side and setting Jellicle on the floor while Hedwig flew off for a nap, she picked up the top report in her in-tray and frowned at the barely legible scrawl.

Ivy had thought she had bad handwriting until she joined the Varia. Having to decipher terrible handwriting in one language was bad enough, but with a minimum of seven languages per writer – some of whom had a bad habit of switching languages mid-sentence – figuring out what that odd squiggle was became rather more difficult. That was provided she could actually read the language the report was written in; she now had magical language kits in Russian and Hindi on her bookshelf in her quarters as a result of receiving reports she couldn't read. The kits might take longer than paying a Mist to implant the language into her mind, but they also wouldn't leave her feeling like a group of trolls were having a party inside her skull. She had done that once to learn Greek and refused to do it again. Even if she could read the language, she also had to consider the Varia's own unique ever-changing multi-lingual dialect, which could change the meaning of a whole sentence with a single word.

Ivy looked at the Name at the top of the report and then went to grab the nearest mook to send the assassin in question up to her office. She wasn't going to give herself a headache when she could simply get the author to explain.

* * *

It turned out that the charms on the communication mirrors were actually quite durable. Ivy and Sirius had managed to get them to the size of dance studio mirrors without any decrease in communication quality, and repeated shrinking and enlargement over a short period had no discernible effect on the runes the charms were anchored to or the mirrors themselves. The only issue occurred when Sirius had enlarged his mirror to a truly monstrous size and the thing had nearly flattened him. At least she had had the foresight to ask Sirius to get two sets of mirrors. First the cats and now this; Ivy was beginning to wonder if her godfather had left his sense of self-preservation back in Britain.

As far as the communication mirrors were concerned, as long as the mirror itself was undamaged they would work. While a broken mirror would still function – as Sirius proved with his little misadventure – the quality was severely diminished and using a _Reparo_ caused the charms to break entirely.

Ivy sent one of the surviving mirrors off to Hogwarts, safe in Hedwig's talons, with a note explaining how to work the mirror and get it safely up to the right size. The other mirror she enlarged and stuck to the wall of her workroom with a Permanent Sticking Charm. The room was locked and trapped with runes and Flames as well as a solid physical lock, so she felt safe enough leaving it there.

Now all she could do was wait for Hermione to call her and explain what the plan was from her end. This Defence club looked like it could be a lot of fun.

* * *

Saul Croaker led his small team of Unspeakables into Gringotts London, heading straight for the first free teller. They had arrived late in the evening, when there would be fewer witnesses to spread gossip about why the Unspeakables were in Gringotts. The fewer who knew of their business here, the better.

"Good evening," Saul greeted the teller politely. Few magically raised witches and wizards seemed to realise that politeness got you further with goblins.

"Unspeakable," the goblin said by way of greeting, "What business does your Department have in Gringotts?"

"We require Gringotts' aid in a matter of great urgency and secrecy. We believe there is an artefact concealed within the bank that contains such foul magics, neither of our nations can permit its continued existence," Saul replied, careful with his wording. Goblin law was different from Wizarding law; certain items forbidden to wizards were permitted to goblins, and vice versa.

The goblin had initially sneered when the wizard had asked for the Nation's help but had become more thoughtful on hearing why. There were few items that both goblins and wizards forbade, and all were of the darkest and foulest magics. The goblin closed his post and beckoned to the assembled Unspeakables. "Follow me."

The Unspeakables followed the goblin deep into hallways of Gringotts, eventually stopping outside an unremarkable door with a name plate declaring the office belonged to Senior Overseer Silvershard. It seemed they would be speaking to someone rather high up the chain of command. The goblin knocked on the door. There was a sharp reply in the goblin tongue, likely either a command to enter or a demand to know why they were there, Saul wasn't sure. He spoke many languages, but Goblin wasn't one of them. The goblin they had followed opened the door, gesturing for the Unspeakables to remain where they were for now. There was a short conversation and their guide returned.

"Senior Overseer Silvershard will speak with you," their guide said, gesturing for them to enter the office before leaving.

The office was plain and utilitarian, just like all the other Gringotts offices Saul had ever seen. The sole decoration was a truly enormous battle axe hanging on the wall behind the desk, flanked by an equally large sword and a spear. For all that they were bankers now, the goblins were warriors at heart.

"Greetings, Senior Overseer Silvershard. I am Saul Croaker, chief liaison of the Department of Mysteries," Saul introduced himself, stepping forward. As the only one who did not have the standard Unspeakable secrecy charm obscuring his identity, he would be the one speaking with the goblin.

"Unspeakable Croaker. What is so terrible about this artefact you seek that you would have the goblins of Gringotts break their word and give you that which is not yours?" Silvershard asked, getting straight down to business.

"What do you know of Horcruxes?" Saul asked, pulling out the file the Italian and British Unspeakables had complied on the ones they had already found, bar the one in Miss Potter's scar; that was not for sharing with the goblins.

"You mean to say someone has made one of those Abominations and placed it within the bank?!" Silvershard demanded, pulling the file over and opening it.

Saul nodded, "They have. A Horcrux belonging to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was discovered by chance. The amount of soul in it was barely enough to act as an anchor, leading us to believe he made more of the things. We used the piece we had to trace the others and found five additional Horcruxes, as well as the remainder of the original soul. So far, we have only managed to retrieve and destroy one of these five; a ring we found hidden in a small shack outside a muggle village. The others are in locations we do not yet have access to or cannot access ourselves. One of the pieces is here in Gringotts. We would like Gringotts to assist us in removing and destroying this foul artefact. It's very existence is an act of blasphemy against Magic herself."

Silvershard snapped the file shut, glaring murderously at it, "I must take this information to Director Ragnok; only he can decide if we can set aside our oaths for this matter. However, given the information within this file, I do not believe he will refuse." The goblin stood and marched out of the room, taking the file with him.

* * *

Bill Weasley didn't know why he and two other Curse-breakers had been assigned to accompany a team of Unspeakables and goblin warriors down to the vaults, but he knew it must be something serious. There was no other reason why the goblins would co-operate with humans outside of their employ. They were down in the deepest vaults, following the lead of an Unspeakable holding a crystal glowing with a sinister purple light.

"This one," the Unspeakable said, pointing to one of the vault doors.

"The Lestrange Vault. Of course, he would hide it with one his most trusted servants," Silvershard muttered as he stepped forward to unseal the vault. A goblin allowing wizards into a vault that wasn't theirs and they didn't have written permission from the owner to enter? This was much more serious than Bill had thought. The Unspeakable with the crystal entered the vault with two goblins and another Unspeakable. They emerged a minute later, levitating a small golden cup.

Now, Bill had pretty decent magical sensitivity. It was something all Curse-breakers picked up – well, the ones who survived anyway. Being able to sense the darker Dark magics reduced the chances of stepping into a particularly nasty Curse and getting killed while clearing out a tomb. Coming from the cup was some of the darkest magic he had ever felt. It felt vile… and he had felt it somewhere before. He didn't get time to dwell on it though.

"I need a containment field here please," the Unspeakable levitating the cup requested. Bill and his colleagues moved to set up the spell used to contain more powerful dark items while the Curses on them were broken. The Unspeakable placed the cup inside and began to draw a set of runes on the floor within the containment field. Once they were done the other Unspeakables simultaneously cast several incredibly Dark and highly destructive Curses at the cup, damaging it severely. There was a terrible scream and pulse of dark magic, and then it was over.

"Thank you for your assistance in this matter," one of the Unspeakables said to Senior Overseer Silvershard.

"The Nation could not allow such a thing to continue to exist," Silvershard replied.

It was as they were returning to ground level that Bill remembered where he had last felt something like the dark magic he had witnessed in the vaults; Grimmauld Place. He hurried to catch up with the Unspeakables.

"Excuse me," he called. The lead Unspeakable – the one who had spoken to Silvershard and the only one who had his face uncovered – stopped and turned.

"Yes?"

"How dangerous was that thing you just destroyed?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I think I know where there might be another one, or at least where it last was."

The Unspeakable's eyes widened. He quickly produced a quill, a scrap of parchment, and a dragonhide bag from his robes. "Go back to where you last found the thing and use this spell. When you find it again, place the item in this pouch and owl it directly to the Department of Mysteries. Do not, under any circumstances, touch it; these items are extremely dangerous and must be destroyed in the proper manner." The man scribbled down a spell and handed the parchment and bag to Bill.

"I will," Bill replied. He would be going to Grimmauld Place to start the search as soon as his shift ended. There was no way he was letting something so dangerous remain anywhere near his family any longer than it absolutely had to.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

N1ghtdr34m3r: Sirius adjusted the Wards on Grimmauld Place so that the Order can get in and out without him needing to be there – it's back in Chapter 6 if you missed it. Bill is part of the Order, so the altered Wards will admit him.

* * *

Bill looked at the ornate locket he held in his dragonhide-gloved hands, vile tainted magic emanating from it. This was definitely what he was searching for.

Grimmauld Place was never truly empty, with his parents and Remus now living there full time and other Order members coming and going for meetings, so Bill had waited for one of the quiet periods before beginning his search. It would be much faster if he didn't have to explain what he was doing and why. Casting the spell the Unspeakable had given him near the first-floor drawing room where he last remembered briefly sensing that vile magic, he had followed the pull of his wand, hoping the thing was still in the house; that drawing room had been one of the rooms cleaned out during his mother's summer cleaning frenzy and she had persuaded (read: nagged) Sirius to throw a lot of stuff away.

The spell led him down into the kitchen, to the little cupboard where Kreacher slept. Bill had put on the dragonhide gloves and pulled out a bag of the same material before opening the cupboard. Normally he wouldn't have disturbed another being's sleeping place without their permission, but he needed to get this thing out of the house as soon as he could.

Bill was about to put the locket in the dragonhide bag when there was a 'pop' behind him.

"What is the blood traitor brat doing with Master Regulus' locket?!" Kreacher demanded angrily.

Bill placed the locket in the bag and turned to face the upset elf. "I am sorry for disturbing your sleeping place Kreacher, and for removing something from it without asking first. This locket is filled with incredibly Dark magic similar to an item found in Gringotts today. This magic is so dangerous that the goblins allowed Unspeakables into another Family's vault in order to destroy it."

Kreacher seemed to calm down a little as Bill explained. "You bes sending Master Regulus' locket to be destroyed too?" Strangely, this thought didn't seem to upset the elf.

Bill nodded, "I'm going to send it to the Unspeakables, who will destroy the item safely. This is the only item I have removed from this cupboard; the rest are still in there."

Kreacher nodded, "Kreacher will allow the blood traitor brat to fulfil Master Regulus' last wish."

Bill didn't know who Regulus was or why destroying the locket would be his last wish, but if Kreacher was agreeable to having the thing destroyed without Sirius having ordered it then Bill wasn't going to look a gift unicorn in the mouth. "Thank you Kreacher. I'll send a note with this asking to be notified once the locket has been destroyed. I'll let you know when I get a reply."

Kreacher ignored him and shuffled out of the kitchen. Bill sealed the bag and wrapped it up securely before heading back up the stairs. He would send the package using a Gringotts owl to ensure a quick, secure, and discreet delivery. The sooner this thing was destroyed, the better.

* * *

Ivy faced the enlarged communication mirror in her workroom, seated comfortably in a chair she had appropriated from one of the rarely used guest rooms (with Kaiser's permission of course – she wasn't Dumb and didn't want the Head of Housekeeping mad at her). In her last letter to her friends at Hogwarts she had told them that she would be waiting for them to call at 7pm British time. It was easier to have them call her, at least for the first time. Once they had a schedule down then she could initiate the calls.

Right on time, the mirror surface began to ripple. Ivy walked over to the mirror and pressed the acceptance rune. The mirror surface cleared, and her friends appeared.

"Hi guys!" Ivy greeted, grinning happily. It had been so long since she had seen her friends. They looked a little strained – Hermione especially – but they weren't sick or injured. Neville, Luna, and Hermione all returned her smile, Luna waving enthusiastically.

"Hi Ivy! It's good to see you again," Hermione replied.

"How've you been?" Neville asked. Ivy sat back in her seat.

"Better than ever before," she replied.

"Getting away from the Schnilluppers has done you good," Luna said. According to Luna, Schnilluppers were actively malicious creatures who fed on the pain they inflicted on their victims. Ivy thought it was a fitting description of the Dursleys.

"You look a lot better," Hermione agreed. Between the regular meals (made according to Luss' meal plan), healthy exercise, and her hospital stay, Ivy looked considerably healthier than she had when she arrived at the Varia.

"I feel a lot better. I've been able to get a few issues sorted out, like getting some glasses that actually fit my eyes and a proper health check," Ivy replied. "How have you guys been?"

The other three shared a look before Neville answered, "Stressed. Umbridge fired Trelawney this morning and tried to kick her out of the castle just before dinner. Dumbledore stepped in and let Trelawney stay, but Umbridge's powers as High Inquisitor mean he can't re-hire her. From the looks Umbridge was giving him, I think the next Educational Decree will be one extending the powers of the High Inquisitor so he can't overrule her again."

"There's a lot of rumours that either Hagrid or Binns will be next, though a few people think Snape will be put on probation. Personally, I think Hagrid will be her next target, when he gets back from wherever he is; Umbridge hates anyone with non-human heritage and, much as I like him, he's not a brilliant teacher," Hermione added. Ivy opened her mouth do defend her large friend, causing Hermione to give her a Look. "Blast Ended Skrewts."

Ah. Those. "You may have a point," Ivy conceded. Hagrid didn't always remember that the students were not quite a durable as he is, as the Skrewts proved. "Anyway, back on topic; setting up this Defence Club. Mione mentioned communication and security measures?"

Hermione nodded, "I've made false Galleons, enchanted with a Protean Charm. The serial number on the side of the master coin can be changed to the time and date of the next meeting and the charm will change the other coins to match. I'll send it back with Hedwig once she's had a rest."

Ivy nodded approvingly, "Much more discreet than passing notes. Security measures?"

"We've found what we think used to be a duelling classroom in one of the less used areas of the castle, up on the sixth floor; all the equipment is still in there, like practise dummies and targets on the walls. That seems to be the best place to hold it, once we've set up security around there. Hermione already has ideas for that," Neville said.

Hermione then took over again. "I've already got a basic Ward scheme drawn out to redirect anyone in that area who hasn't signed the secrecy contract, and I've enlisted the Twins to help set up other measures. They're part of the club and have already signed the contract."

"How exactly are you enforcing secrecy?" Ivy asked.

"The contract is jinxed so if a member betrays the existence of the club, they'll get boils across their forehead spelling out 'SNEAK'," Hermione said.

"Not good enough," Ivy stated. It really wasn't. "The jinx is a reactive measure; it doesn't actually enforce secrecy, just punishes the person who told. It doesn't change the fact that they betrayed the group and potentially got everyone in deep trouble."

"What do you suggest then?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit annoyed that Ivy had said her measures weren't enough.

"The best way to keep a secret is to make sure nobody can tell. Alter the jinx to one that makes the traitor talk and write gibberish if they try to reveal the existence of the club, or something similar. Your idea is a good one Mione, you just need to be more proactive in enforcing secrecy," Ivy said.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "You have a point. I'll see about altering the jinx to be more proactive."

Ivy nodded, "Next question; when would be best for meetings? My schedule is very flexible, so I can work around you guys. I can't do weekends though; I have lessons."

"If we hold it when the Slytherin Quidditch team are practising then we won't have to worry about scheduling around the other teams. It also reduces the chances of someone being followed by a nosy Slytherin," Luna suggested.

"Holding the meetings when the Slytherins are busy would be a good idea," Hermione agreed.

"We'll do that then. Try and find out when the Slytherin's have the Quidditch pitch booked and send a note with Hedwig; I'll set the date for the first meeting when she gets here," Ivy said. Her friends nodded in agreement.

"Now that's settled, tell us more about what you've been up to. I'm sure there's a lot you missed out in your letters," Luna chirped. Ivy smiled and got comfortable. It was good to be able to talk properly with her friends again.

* * *

Saul Croaker closed the report on his desk and sighed. He desperately wanted a drink.

"How goes the hunt?" Unspeakable Rossi asked as he entered the office. The Horcrux hunt was a joint project between the Italian and British Unspeakables, with Rossi and Saul coordinating between them.

"We've found and destroyed another one of the blasted things; a locket that I have been told belonged to Salazar Slytherin, sent to us by one of the Curse-breakers who assisted us at Gringotts," Saul said tiredly, tapping the report in front of him. "The one we destroyed at the bank was apparently Helga Hufflepuff's fabled Cup. Two Founders artefacts of great historical value desecrated and destroyed. Quite a few people are very unhappy about that." Like his superiors.

"At least there's only two left to destroy before Voldemort is mortal again," Rossi said sympathetically. "Which one are you going for next?"

"The one in Hogwarts. It's far too dangerous to leave it where an unsuspecting student might pick it up, especially if there are Curses on it like there were on the ring. The other one is in the same location as the main soul, so we're saving that one for last," Saul replied. They would have to get the Aurors involved with the last one – which meant they were going to have to wait for Fudge to get his head out of his arse or Voldemort to reveal himself; the second option was infinitely more likely – but it and the main soul would be a two-for-one special. Unless Voldemort moved the Horcrux to another location where the Unspeakables could get at it, in which case they would move in and destroy it.

There was another report on his desk about a potential complication with the plan to destroy the final Horcrux; a prophecy related to the Dark Lord and Ivy-Rose Potter. Prophecy was not Saul's area of expertise, but he did know that prophecies only came into effect if one of the named parties believed in it and once started would come to pass regardless of outside interference. As far as he knew, Miss Potter was unaware of the prophecy, though there was a chance Voldemort knew about it from Rookwood. The traitor hadn't been very highly placed but, as his trial had shown, he had something of a talent for getting hold of information he shouldn't have been able to access. Saul would need to keep the prophecy in mind and plan accordingly when deciding how and when to deal with the final Horcrux, but that was a headache for another day.

"When do you plan on going?" Rossi asked, dragging Saul back out of his thoughts.

"Sooner rather than later. It's too risky to leave it there too long; the fact it hasn't been found yet doesn't mean it will stay hidden forever. There is an argument for leaving it until the Christmas holidays, when there will be fewer students around and it will be easier to search the castle, but that's still a few weeks away," Saul said.

"You could search while the children are in classes. If they're in class then they're not wandering around the castle and potentially stumbling across Horcruxes," Rossi pointed out.

"Hmm, good point," Saul said, leaning back in his chair. "I'll get a team together for Monday then. Probably better if we go in unannounced; both Umbridge and Dumbledore have a known habit of meddling."

"A couple of my people have asked if they can join you in destroying this Horcrux. They want to examine the shard stored in it, and they have a potential method of destroying the things they want to try," Rossi requested. The Unspeakables may be trying to destroy these things, but they were primarily researchers. Horcruxes were rare and the chance to study them before destruction was something few researchers would pass up, if only so the next generation would have more information available should they face the same problem in the future.

"I don't see a problem with that, so long as the examination doesn't take too long. I intend to be in and out of Hogwarts before lunch," Saul replied. Rossi nodded and left.

Saul moved the files to one side and reached for parchment and ink. He would need to let his superiors know about the trip to Hogwarts, if only so they would ignore the inevitable complaints from Dumbledore about a group of Unspeakables turning up unannounced.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊. Sorry for the long wait; my muse ran off with my motivation and I had to wait for them to come back.

Black Dragoniss: Yes, Hermione is good in this fic

quaff: In the Varia, a physical lock on a door is the equivalent of a 'Keep Out: Enter Without Permission and Be Maimed' sign. Yes, Varia have tried to get in, but none of them have succeeded yet; the inability to sense magic is hindering their progress. There is also the fact that Ivy is a Cloud, and many in the Varia automatically count a Cloud's private rooms as 'Territory', since most Clouds are highly defensive of personal space

Nykyrian: The choice of a cat has two bonuses: the Varia are less likely to kill it on principle (because I can see them being justifiably wary of snakes, since they travel the world) and it's something fluffy to cuddle. Also, Housekeeping are less likely to object to a cat than a snake. Ivy doesn't really hide her ability to speak snake, but she doesn't advertise it either due to prejudice.

* * *

Dumbledore sat at his desk in the Headmaster's office of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sorting through his daily correspondence, which had reduced significantly since he was removed from his positions as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump and British representative at the ICW. Despite the annoyance of being removed from his positions of political power, the reduction in paperwork and requests for advice was positively restful. He still had power in Hogwarts though, and that was what really mattered.

The Ministry's attempts to curb his power here was a constant source of irritation for Albus. He was having to focus more and more on ensuring Hogwarts remained his and followed his vision while subtly undermining the toad Umbridge without looking like he was actively acting against her, leaving less time to devote to other important issues; namely, Tom and Ivy.

Tom was perhaps the simpler of the two to deal with, despite being the more dangerous. Albus knew what he was after and where it was. All Albus needed to do was watch and wait; Tom would eventually make his move and come out into the open, at which point Magical Britain would flock to Albus' banner once more. The Order were guarding the Department of Mysteries at night, so Albus would be warned in good time when Tom made more overt moves to take the prophecy, though he didn't think that would happen any time soon. Tom was currently benefitting from the Ministry's denial and he would want to make full use of it. Severus was keeping a close eye on the activities of Tom and his Death Eaters in the mean time.

Ivy Potter, on the other hand, was a much trickier problem. The girl was definitely somewhere well Warded against detection – there was no other reason why all his tracking methods had failed. Without his political power or authority over her as her magical guardian, Albus had very few means to try and track the girl down. It was beginning to look like he would have to wait until she returned to Britain of her own accord, since the removal of his magical guardianship over her meant he wouldn't be alerted when she claimed her Heir ring. It was intensely frustrating, having his plans hinging on the whims of another; Albus _hated_ not being in control.

A ripple in the Wards drew the Headmaster from his musing. As controller of the Hogwarts wards, he was able to sense the general location of the staff and was alerted whenever anyone entered or left the area protected by the Wards. It was a standard feature of all Ward schemes and a very useful one at that.

A small party had just entered the Wards and were likely heading towards the castle. Albus set his letters aside and opened a hidden passage that lead from the Headmaster's office to the ground floor. Term-time visitors were unusual, especially in the winter term, and Albus was curious as to who would be visiting so early in the morning.

* * *

Saul Croaker lead his team swiftly across the grounds of Hogwarts and towards the castle itself. The Unspeakables had timed their visit just after classes had started, so as to reduce the chances of being noticed by a random wanderer in the hallways. It was probably too much to hope that they would make it into the building without their arrival being noticed, but if they could avoid running into the Headmaster then that would be good. If he did notice them, then Saul would do everything in his power to dissuade the man from interfering in their hunt.

The Unspeakable team made it halfway across the Entrance Hall when an unwelcome voice called out behind them.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

Saul stopped and turned to face the aged Headmaster, who was smiling genially. "Good morning, Headmaster."

"Mr Croaker," Dumbledore greeted. "Might I ask what business the Unspeakables have at Hogwarts today?"

"We have received information that there is a dangerous dark artefact hidden somewhere in the castle. Our Department Head has issued instructions that this artefact must be found and destroyed without delay," Saul replied, keeping his reply as vague as he could while still providing the information that Dumbledore, in his capacity as Headmaster responsible for the welfare of his students, was entitled to.

"What kind of artefact, Mr Croaker? And might I enquire as to your source?" Dumbledore asked genially. Saul felt the gentle probing of Legilimency probes against his Occlumency shields. Did Dumbledore really think that would work? As if any Unspeakable worth their wand would be unable to Occlude, let alone lower their shields in the presence of a suspected – now confirmed – Legilimens.

"I'm afraid our sources are confidential, Professor," Saul replied smoothly, "As for the artefact, the only thing I'm allowed to tell you is that it belonged to the Dark Lord Voldemort." Let's see how you react to that, old man.

Dumbledore paled. "An artefact belonging to Voldemort? I must insist that I be permitted to analyse this artefact once you have recovered it."

"And I must refuse. Unless you have a Dark Arts Mastery you've been hiding?" Saul asked, raising a curious eyebrow. Dumbledore's eyes had stopped twinkling and his smile had shifted to a frustrated frown. Saul had been polite up until now, but if Dumbledore got pushy and tried to join the hunt then Saul could and would cry interference, which Fudge would have a field day with despite the DoM only nominally answering to the Minister. Dumbledore knew it too.

"Very well. Still, I would like to at least be informed once the artefact is disposed of," Dumbledore requested, his tone indicating his barely concealed displeasure.

"Of course, Professor. Now, if you will excuse us," Saul replied, turning on his heel and making his way to join his colleagues who had gathered round the base of the Main Staircase. The Unspeakables hurried off up the stairs, not speaking until they were well out of Dumbledore's sight.

One of the British Unspeakables pulled out their wand and put up a suite of privacy charms around the group. "Alright, does everyone remember the plan?" Saul asked when his colleague had stowed their wand away. Everyone nodded. One team would be heading to the library to start looking for any literature related to Horcruxes, while the other would head to the top floor and start sweeping the building for the Horcrux. It was highly unlikely the Dark Lord would have hidden a piece of his soul in a well-travelled area – someone would have found it and likely been possessed by now – so they would be focusing on the less inhabited areas. Saul would be joining the search team, along with the two Italian Unspeakables.

Saul nodded back to his team. "Good. Happy hunting."

* * *

The Horcrux team ran into a slight issue when the staircases suddenly changed, leaving them on the third floor with no way up.

"Now what do we do? Hogwarts is ridiculous…" one of the Italian Unspeakables complained.

"I know another way up. There's a passage not far from the Defence classroom that leads up to the fifth floor," one of the younger Unspeakables suggested. Saul nodded to them.

"Lead on then."

As they hurried past the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom a faint buzzing noise suddenly started up. One of the British Unspeakables rummaged in a pocket and brought out a small stone etched with Runes and glowing an angry red.

"What's that?" their guide asked.

"A dark artefact detector keyed to artefacts that use blood," the stone's owner replied. They waved their wand over it a few times and studied the results. "The reading is coming from the classroom," they said worriedly.

"More likely the office. The only way to access it is through the classroom," Saul said, eyeing the door.

"Should we deal with it? Since we're here?" the younger Unspeakable asked. Saul shook his head.

"No. We'd need a warrant to search Umbridge's office; she might be teaching, but she's still Fudge's favourite. Besides," Saul smiled a thin mean smile that said something nasty was going to happen to someone he didn't like, and he was looking forward to it, "our dear Head of the DMLE has something of a grudge against Madam Umbridge. It would be rude to deny her such an opportunity."

"I'll make a copy of the scan results," the owner of the detector stone said, conjuring a piece of parchment and copying down the results. Saul nodded and signalled for the group to continue on, his mood much improved by the thought of dragging Umbridge off her high horse.

* * *

Saul frowned at the Horcrux in the containment circle, his mood souring. The Horcrux detection crystal had gone off on the seventh floor, indicating towards a blank spot on the wall. Several diagnostic and revealing spells gave back very odd results, which confirmed a room was there but very heavily concealed. They had been debating how best to try and gain entry when a door had suddenly materialised, allowing the team to enter. Upon entering, the team had been greeted by centuries of broken, damaged, and variously illegal items. They could have quite happily spent several months sorting though the detritus and studying the books and items they had found. However, they were here with a serious purpose, so all other thoughts needed to be put aside. Though that Vanishing Cabinet would be coming with them once they were finished; those were rare.

Following the crystal had led them to an ugly bust on top of a potion-damaged cabinet, which was wearing a beautiful tiara. A beautiful and dangerous tiara; there were powerful compulsion charms on the thing, as well as a number of extremely nasty Curses. The tiara had been quickly identified as the fabled Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. That made three Founders items Voldemort had seen fit to turn into Horcruxes.

"Chief Liaison? We're ready to begin our experiment," one of the Italian Unspeakables informed him. Saul nodded and moved back into the Warded safety zone. The premise of the experiment was simple. Horcruxes were made from a piece of a human soul. The Killing Curse worked by ripping the soul from the body. Therefore, a powerful Killing Curse should destroy a Horcrux without destroying the container. If it didn't, then the Italians had a purification ritual they wanted to try before they went the destructive route.

Saul was a little surprised that no one had thought of trying this before. It was kind of understandable though, given the fear that Curse inspired.

The Unspeakable chosen the cast the Curse took up their position in front of the Horcrux, which was surrounded by a runic circle the Italian Unspeakables hoped would weaken the connection of the soul piece to its container and make it more vulnerable to the Curse. The runes would also contain the magic from any defences their attempt to destroy the Horcrux might activate. Everyone held their breath as the Unspeakable gathered themselves.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

All the other Unspeakables flinched as the jet of pale green light flew towards the diadem. It struck the jewelled headpiece hard. A black cloud of screaming magic rose from the jewels, screaming shrilly for a moment before dissipating. The Unspeakables waited with baited breath as one of them analysed the diadem.

"All clear."

"That was surprisingly simple."

"Why didn't anyone think of that before?"

"Alright people. Let's get the diadem bagged up. We'll take a few minutes to check for any other dark and deadly artefacts before we leave," Saul said. They'd all just watched a Killing Curse at work – admittedly against an inanimate object – and they all needed five minutes to calm down. Once they were done they would head back out; the library team could follow later. He'd need to let Dumbledore know they were done, but he could just write a note and send it with a house elf on the way out. Right now, he really wanted a look at that Vanishing Cabinet.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊

Hoppy854: You're right, Ivy is less biased against Slytherins as a whole due to her experiences. The issue here is trust. While Ivy knows that not all Slytherins support Voldemort or the Ministry, she doesn't really know any of them, so doesn't know which ones it would be safe to invite. None of her friends really know any Slytherins or have a good relationship with the house of Serpents in the first place, so they wouldn't try to invite them. There's also the fact that no Slytherin worth their scales would ever sign a potentially cursed contract without knowing the exact consequences of breaking it and any loopholes they could exploit. If they want tutoring, they have Snape.

Jordisk: Those are interesting ideas. I personally think the Curse is tied to both the title of Defence Professor and the teacher's office itself, since you can teach Defence without being the designated Professor, and you would have to be specifically looking for the Curse to find it. Removing it would likely take Voldemort's death, since the Curse removes any Defence Professor that isn't him for as long as he's alive.

* * *

Madam Amelia Bones strode up the front steps of Hogwarts at the head of a party of Aurors and Unspeakables. The Head of the DMLE had come to Britain's foremost school of magic at breakfast time on a Saturday to carry out a warrant against one Dolores Umbridge, and she was looking forward to it.

Five days ago, Saul Croaker had entered her office and informed her that one of his Unspeakables had detected a dark blood artefact in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom area while they were searching the school for something else entirely. Amelia had been quietly but vindictively pleased at the prospect of finally having something to use against the toad. Dolores Umbridge was extremely unpopular in the Ministry and a constant thorn in Amelia's side. Fudge's protection was the only reason why the toad-like woman hadn't been fired yet. Having something on Umbridge that couldn't be swept under the rug would put an end to that protection; Fudge would drop her like a hot quaffle if he thought keeping her around would harm his precious approval rating. They would have to find the evidence first though.

Amelia knew from experience that Dolores Umbridge was a cunning toad. If she had so much as a hint of warning that her office would be searched, the evidence would vanish faster than you could say _Evanesco_. Umbridge didn't have any friends or allies in the Ministry besides Fudge, but she was still remarkably well informed about what was going on at the Ministry despite being so unpopular. Hence why Amelia was hitting Hogwarts at such an early hour, with a team of her most trusted Aurors and some of Saul's Unspeakables to help them find what they were looking for.

Amelia and her squad of Aurors and Unspeakables strode into the packed Great Hall. A glance at the head table confirmed that Umbridge was present. Good. Amelia strode up the central aisle between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables towards the head table. The toad had a little smile on her fat face. Amelia would take great pleasure in removing it.

"Madam Bones," Dumbledore greeted her, rising from his chair. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I am here to execute a warrant, Headmaster," Amelia replied, watching as a frown formed on Dumbledore's face and the toad's smile widened, "against Madam Dolores Umbridge, on suspicion of possession of an illegal blood artefact." Umbridge's face fell as two of Amelia's Aurors placed their hands on her shoulders and relieved her of her wand. "We will be taking her into temporary custody while we search her classroom and office."

"You can't do this to me!" Umbridge protected angrily, "I am… "

"Currently a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is under the authority of Headmaster Dumbledore," Amelia cut her off. "Fudge can't protect you here, Dolores. I would advise coming quietly, though do feel free to give me a reason to arrest you for resisting arrest." Umbridge went quite still at that. Shame; ah well, Amelia may yet get her chance to cuff Umbridge.

The Auror-Unspeakable team marched off, prisoner in tow, towards the Defence classroom. Despite the best efforts of the teachers, there was soon a crowd of students following them at a distance. Amelia wasn't too bothered; so long as the kids didn't interfere with the search, she was fine with them following. When they reached the Defence corridor she set one pair of Aurors to stop the students following them and sent another pair ahead to cut off anyone going around and trying to sneak a peak that way.

One of the Unspeakables stepped forward, a glowing red stone in their hand. "Reading confirmed. There is a blood-magic artefact in the Defence rooms. I can get a more precise location once we're inside."

Amelia nodded. "Tonks, Shacklebolt, take point." The Aurors nodded and did as she commanded. She was pleased to see that Tonks had already begun scanning the door for spells, as was standard procedure in this kind of search. The young Auror was already shaping up to be a fine addition to the DMLE.

The group moved to the centre of the classroom, stopping to allow the Unspeakables to scan for anything dark and dangerous. The Unspeakable with the detector stone watched as it spun and pointed towards the office.

"Classroom is clear. Readings indicate we want the office," the Unspeakable confirmed. The group moved forward again, Shacklebolt and Tonks ascending the stairs to the office ahead of the rest and checking the door.

"Privacy, security, intruder alarm… Nothing untoward on the door Madam Bones," Shacklebolt reported before stepping back. Amelia gestured for the Unspeakables to head on up before her. From what she remembered of her own Hogwarts days, the Defence office wasn't big enough for the whole team. Therefore, only two Unspeakables, the two Aurors holding Umbridge, and Amelia herself would be entering. It was a bit of a tight fit, but they all made it in. Umbridge's guards settled her next to the door while the Unspeakables went straight for the desk.

"You can't do this! There's no possible way this search is legal!" Umbridge protested. As the Unspeakables began muttering spells.

Amelia turned and fixed the toad woman with an icy look. "I have in my possession a warrant, signed by myself, confirming the legality of this search based on evidence presented to me by the Chief Liaison of the Department of Mysteries. I am here to personally ensure everything is done legally and by the book." Because that way the toad couldn't worm her way out of any charges on a technicality.

"Madam Bones, we have something. We found this in a hidden compartment in her desk," one of the Unspeakables said, placing a slim wooden box on the desk. The stone in their colleague's hand was glowing a bright angry red. The first Unspeakable lifted the lid of the box to reveal a long, sharp, black quill. The Unspeakables began muttering spells again and the quill glowed as red as the detection stone.

"Madam, we have confirmed that this is a blood quill. It has also been recently used," the second Unspeakable confirmed.

Amelia turned Umbridge, who had gone very pale. Susan had mentioned in her letters that there was something very off about Umbridge's detentions; how the students would come out very quiet and subdued, often clutching their hand... It hadn't been enough to act on before, but now she had proof. "Dolores Umbridge, I hereby formally arrest you on the charge of possession of an illegal Class 1 dark artefact, namely a blood quill. I also arrest you for the use of said artefact on another witch or wizard. Aurors, take the prisoner away." The two Aurors holding Umbridge left using the office Floo, since it was a quick and convenient way to get her back to the Ministry holding cells. They also took the quill with them, to be deposited in the evidence locker as soon as possible.

Amelia strode out of the office, assigning Shacklebolt to monitor the ongoing search of Umbridge's office and quarters for any other illegal or restricted items. She went back out into the hallway to face the crowd of students and staff that were being held back by her Aurors. Casting a mild _Sonorous_ on herself, Amelia addressed them. "If I could have everyone's attention please."

"Has Umbridge been arrested?" a voice called from the crowd.

"I'm afraid I cannot comment on an ongoing investigation…" Amelia's words were drowned out by the cheering. She had as good as admitted Umbridge had been arrested. She waited for the hubbub to die down before continuing. "Those students who have served detention with Madam Umbridge and are willing to make statements about what happened, please make yourselves known to the Aurors. If Professor Dumbledore would be kind enough to provide us with rooms we can Ward appropriately, we will begin taking them shortly." Dumbledore nodded in assent to her request even as she voiced it. Almost immediately students began making themselves known to the Aurors. Amelia got the feeling this was going to be a very long and very satisfying day.

* * *

"… they were there taking statements until after lunch. From what I've heard, quite a few people have submitted memories too, as extra evidence," Hermione finished. Ivy sat back in her chair, absorbing everything her friends had told her. Part of her kind of wished she had been there to see the toad's face. She might not have had to deal with the woman in person, but the amount of stress and strain the toad had caused her friends was infuriating.

"Who's teaching Defence now?" Ivy asked.

"We don't know. Defence is cancelled until further notice," Neville said.

"Maybe Fudge will send one of his loyal Heliopaths in disguise, to recruit us into his own army so we can't be recruited by Dumbledore's," Luna suggested.

Ivy shook her head. "Unlikely, Luna. You're probably right about the new teacher being a Ministry stooge though; it's not like Dumbledore can just conjure up a Defence professor so close to the end of winter term, and that Educational Decree means he has to take whoever they give him. Looks like we'll still need our little Defence club for a while yet."

"Voldemort isn't going to go away just because we don't have Umbridge teaching us anymore," Hermione agreed.

"Anything else interesting?" Ivy asked.

"I think Fred and George are plotting a big prank to celebrate Umbridge being arrested, but I don't know anything about that, and I don't think I want to. Other than that, nothing," Neville said.

"We'd better go; it'll be curfew soon," Luna said. Ivy smiled.

"I'll let you go then. Let me know if you get any news about the Umbridge case or if anything interesting happens. See you soon," she tapped the rune to end the call and stretched in her chair before heading back up to the main castle. Despite the central heating the dungeons were bloody freezing.

* * *

November rolled onwards into December and the Varia began to take on a very festive feel. Christmas time was upon them, and with it Christmas pranks. Poisoned jugs of eggnog left lying around randomly, Mist traps under the mistletoe on almost every lintel, carol Curses in the most random places, creative use of tinsel and baubles as booby traps… It was absolute chaos and Ivy loved it.

The Cloud Officer was currently in her quarters, wrapping her presents and checking she had one for everyone on her list. In addition to giving presents to Sirius and her friends back in Hogwarts, she was also giving gifts to her fellow Officers. Except Levi; he was not hers and so would not be getting a present.

Clouds did not do casual gifts. For many Clouds, giving presents was connected to Territory; accepting that present meant you accepted that the Cloud in question considered you to be one of theirs. Ivy was one of these Clouds, though she had only recently recognised it. Her Territory consisted of people she considered to be close friends and/or family and it was those people she gave presents to.

Despite having only really known the other Officers for a couple of months, she considered them to be worth giving presents. Squalo had become something of a mentor to Ivy; it was his example she followed when running her Division and him she turned to when she needed advice on dealing with unusually stubborn idiots. Luss filled a sort of 'big sister' role, like he did for everyone in the Varia who would let him, and was the only person to have seen all of Ivy's scars and been trusted with the stories behind them; Ivy trusted Luss with her physical and mental health in a way she hadn't felt able to trust Madam Pomphrey, because Luss actually listened to her and gave her options and that meant a lot to Ivy.

Mammon, as well as acting as Ivy's magical guardian and managing her money, was willing to give advice on magical things if she couldn't get hold of Sirius – in return for suitable renumeration of course (in Ivy's case, strawberry shortcake; the Arcobaleno couldn't resist their favourite sweet treat). Bel, despite his snobby attitude, had become a close friend. It was nice to have another person the same age and Varia rank to talk with, and he was very interested in helping with Ivy's experiments into how Flames and Runes interact.

Buying presents for the Officers had been a bit difficult, but she had managed it. Squalo would be getting a large box of high-quality tea from a Potter-owned plantation in India; Luss was getting gift vouchers for his favourite designer brands, which was a bit of a cop-out but Ivy would be baking a cake as well so it wasn't too bad; Mammon was getting a book of discount coupons and some of their favourite chocolate, which the money obsessed Mist would accept more than a physical gift; and Bel was getting some of the Discworld books, which Ivy knew he would like because he had already borrowed a couple off her and still hadn't given them back.

Her Hogwarts friends had been easier to buy for, since she had known them the longest. A book on Mediterranean magical history for Hermione; a pair of rollerblades for Luna, who would appreciate the fun footwear; and an advanced Herbology text for Neville, who would enjoy it. She had also bought a highly useful enchanted revision notebook for each of them to help with their OWLs. Ivy had one of those notebooks herself that she was going to use for her WICTs.

Getting those presents to Hogwarts had been the subject of intense discussion between the four teenage magicals. Using Hedwig had been ruled out; there had been rumours of incoming and outgoing post being searched while Umbridge was still at the school, with a number of owls arriving looking rather ruffled despite the relatively calm weather. Hedwig was too recognisable and anything she delivered would almost certainly be searched and tracked. There had been a number of other suggestions, including seeing if Gringotts did international post and using house elves.

Ivy had quickly put an end to the house elf idea. She worked for a _muggle_ organisation; an extremely security conscious organisation, to the point of paranoia. Owl post was strange, but it was something people could get used to; stranger things happened in the Varia on a daily basis. However, if any of the incredibly nosy assassins she worked with spotted a house elf casually popping in and out of the building, then there would be trouble. There was also the fact that a house elf could be made to tell their master where she was. That was why they had ruled out asking Neville's family elf Dilly to help; bonded elves answered to the Head of the Family, which was currently Neville's grandmother, and Madam Longbottom's ardent support for Dumbledore meant that she might force Dilly to tell her where Ivy was. The Hogwarts elves were out for the same reason.

Hermione had then suggested asking Dobby to do it, since he had no master he could be forced to tell. Surprisingly, it had been Neville who vetoed that idea; it turned out that unbonded house elves had access to less magic than bonded elves, so Dobby might not have enough power to reach Italy. Ivy had quietly breathed a sigh of relief at that; she liked Dobby, she really did, but she remembered all too well the chaos he had caused in the name of 'protecting' her and she could do without him doing that again if the elf thought she was in danger. So, no, they would not be using house elves to deliver Christmas presents and risk upsetting Mammon if the little beings got past the Varia's truly paranoid security.

With Umbridge gone and the owl searches having stopped, the friends had agreed that owl post would be the easiest delivery option. Ivy had asked Sirius if she could borrow his owl Polaris for the trip, since his owl was much less noticeable than Hedwig. Neville, Luna, and Hermione would send their presents using school owls before they went home for the holidays.

Sirius' Christmas present was the most important of the lot and the hardest to arrange; a fair trial. Mammon, acting at Ivy's request in their capacity as her magical guardian, had helped her to find a piece of ICW legislation that let a citizen of any member state who had been accused of a crime to request a trial before an ICW appointed judge and jury if there was evidence that they would not otherwise receive a fair trial. Fudge's categorical refusal to accept the evidence of Pettigrew's survival and guilt that Ivy and her friends had offered him, plus Sirius' complete lack of a prior trial – Mammon had gotten a bonus for having a copy of his arrest and trial file smuggled out of the British Ministry – meant that he was eligible to apply under the legislation.

Since Sirius was a fugitive, Ivy had petitioned the ICW under the fair trial legislation on his behalf, submitting the file and her testimony as evidence. It had taken a little while for the wheels of bureaucracy to start turning, but eventually they received a court date. In the New Year, Sirius would once more be a free man. Her godfather had been over the moon that Ivy and Mammon had gone to so much trouble to get him the trial he should have had fourteen years ago. Ivy had told him to thank them once he was free.

Ivy smiled as she finished wrapping her presents. She would be spending Christmas Eve and Day with Sirius, then popping back to the Varia to finish the expenses paperwork that Mammon needed by New Year's Eve, then spending the first week of 1996 with her godfather before attending his trial. She was looking forward to it.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

AN: Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed, or reviewed 😊. A longer chapter this time, to make up for the wait

ShineX: Yeah, I know it sounds bad, but at the same time it isn't. Bones is the highest law enforcement authority in Britain, answering only to the Wizengamot, so her signature would be on the warrant. With someone so important in the Ministry being searched, it would make sense she would attend to personally ensure everything was done properly and any legal loopholes were closed.

Daphne Slytherin Winchester: I did hint at the destruction of the ring in ch13, but I've added a bit to ch12 to make it clearer. The ring horcrux was dealt with off-screen.

* * *

Belphegor was lounging in the Varia Library, enjoying one of the books his Mage had bought him for Christmas. It was the end of the first week of the New Year and it was actually rather quiet in the Varia castle right now; the lack of jobs meant a subsequent lack of paperwork to occupy his precious free time, and quite a few of the peasants were on holiday. That would all change soon, as assassins returned and work started up again, but for now Bel was going to take full advantage of the opportunity to indulge his slothful side without being bothered by the Shark.

The Prince was well aware of the implications of receiving and accepting a gift from a Cloud. He wasn't entirely surprised that Amsel had chosen to invite the Prince to join her Territory. They did spend a fair bit of time together working on Amsel's incredibly fascinating Flame Rune experiments and discussing various subjects – such as the differences between magical and non-magical society, which was interesting and occasionally illogical – when Bel was in the building. Though, he was now quite interested in what his Mage's Territory was actually defined as and the criteria she used to select her chosen. That would be something to look into when she returned after her godfather's trial; Stupid peasants, denying a high-ranking noble a trial based on the shouted accusations of a cowardly peasant and not even bothering to check the evidence.

A bit of not-exactly-subtle questioning had revealed that Squalo, Lussuria, and Mammon had also received presents from Amsel, each as thoughtful and suited to the recipient's tastes as his own. The Okama had been thrilled by their vouchers and cake (Bel was admittedly rather jealous of the cake; his Mage's baking skills were truly excellent) and by the fact Amsel felt secure enough to expand her Territory. The Baby had been quietly smug while eating their chocolate and flipping through the booklet of discount vouchers, and the Shark had likewise been pleased with his supply of high-quality tea. All four Officers knew the implications of those gifts and were happy to accept being claimed by their quiet and respectful Cloud. And Amsel was_ theirs_, just as much as they were hers; she had just been a bit more obvious about staking her claim.

Levi had not received a gift, which had not surprised Bel in the slightest. He already knew Amsel had good taste in people – she had invited the Prince to become part of her Territory after all – and her aversion to Leviathan further confirmed this.

Bel's thoughts turned to Boss. How would Amsel and Boss react to each other when they met? And it was most definitely _when_, not if; magic opened up a whole range of options for retrieving and reviving the Boss. Amsel had claimed all four of Boss' bonded Guardians as hers – Levi was not Boss' Lightning, though the peasant wished he was – so odds were favourable that they would get along. They might even possibly bond on some level if their bonding conditions were compatible. Belphegor certainly wouldn't object if Boss did decide to bond Amsel.

Turning the page, Bel refocused his attention on his book. He intended to make the most of this quiet relaxing time before work started up again.

* * *

Quiet chatter filled the grand Meeting Chamber of the International Confederation of Wizards as delegates greeted their allies. It was Monday 8th January 1996, the first meeting of the new year. The day Sirius Black would face a trial before the ICW for the crimes he was accused of in Britain.

Two tables had been set up at the front of the meeting chamber before the Supreme Mugwump's chair. At one of these tables sat Albus Dumbledore's replacement as British representative, Lord Atticus Greengrass, and Madam Amelia Bones, who was attending as the current Head of law enforcement in the country where Black had originally been charged.

December had been a busy month for Amelia. Dolores Umbridge had gone on trial at the start of the month. Fudge had been his usual obstructionist self, demanding they release his Undersecretary and trying to delay the trial; threatening to charge him with complicity in Umbridge's crimes if he didn't back off shut him up very nicely. It would stick too; after all, Fudge was the one who put Umbridge in Hogwarts in the first place, then gave her pretty much any power she wanted without any safeguards against abuse of that power.

Amelia had personally enjoyed watching the trial. She had recused herself from her usual role of prosecutor and her place on the jury, since it was well known she had a grudge against Umbridge and she wasn't going to risk jeopardising the trial. Not that she was overly worried, given the quality and quantity of evidence they had – she had successfully argued for the memory evidence to be admitted due to the involvement of children, though the written statements and photographs of the injuries would likely have been enough – but it wasn't worth the risk. The Wizengamot could be finicky at the best of times. Even better, since Umbridge was a half-blood rather than a pureblood like she claimed, Scrimgeour – who was acting as prosecutor in Amelia's place – was able to dose her with Veritaserum. With Umbridge forced to spill her guts about what she had done, the mountain of clear evidence, and the fact that she had used that vile artefact on children, there was only one possible outcome; guilty of all charges. Life in Azkaban for possession of a Class 1 dark artefact, using that artefact on another magical, and child abuse.

It didn't take long for the news to get out about what Umbridge had done. Once it did, all manner of people started coming out of the woodwork with complaints about Umbridge. People she had threatened, blackmailed, harmed physically and mentally, had careers ruined for no reason, none of whom had felt safe enough to speak up while she was still free. There was even an allegation she had murdered a Muggleborn witch. Investigating those complaints was still keeping her Aurors very busy. The press were having an absolute field day and Fudge was constantly firefighting to try and keep his own reputation from being mired in Dolores' muck.

Then Arthur Weasley was attacked by a giant venomous snake in the Department of Mysteries less than a week before Hogwarts was due to let out for Christmas.

What the man had been doing there he had refused to say; given his political leanings, Amelia suspected it was something to do with Dumbledore. What Amelia did know was he was very lucky to be alive. If he had fallen towards the lift rather than the department entrance, he wouldn't have triggered the alert Wards he was sat just outside of which alerted Unspeakables inside the DoM to the presence of non-members (which were how the Unspeakables always knew when they had guests, though it didn't explain how they always knew who those guests were). If those Unspeakables hadn't been working late that night and hadn't gone out to investigate, Arthur would have been dead within minutes. He really had been very lucky.

The Aurors had only found out what was happening when one of them was heading home for the night and found the emergency team from Saint Mungo's running towards the lifts. Amelia herself only found out when the night duty team flooed her at some disgustingly late hour to inform her that someone had been attacked in the Department of Mysteries, the Unspeakables weren't letting the Aurors investigate, and they refused to hand over the corpse of the giant venomous snake the Unspeakables had killed when they found it savaging Arthur. Amelia had not been pleased at all. Attacks within the Ministry came under her jurisdiction, regardless of how independent a department was!

Amelia had demanded an explanation from Saul the following morning and got half of one. He had told her that the snake was connected to a bigger investigation with the Italian Unspeakables – the same investigation that had led to Umbridge being arrested on a completely unrelated matter. All he would tell her was that the investigation was that it related to the supposedly deceased Dark Lord (Saul's words, not hers) and some extremely dark items he had left behind. Amelia knew better than to press for details; Saul would only tell her what he thought she needed to know, which was more than he would tell anyone else. Sha had at least managed to get him to cooperate with her in figuring out how the snake got in. Maybe now she could finally get the idiot Minister to sign off on those security upgrades.

She had been busy with that investigation when Lord Atticus Greengrass had showed up in her office two days before New Year, holding a summons from the ICW to attend the trial of Sirius Black. That summons had prompted her to do some discreet digging in the Ministry Archives, because surely Black had already been given a trial – even the Lestranges had gotten a trial and they had been caught in the act! – only to find no record of it. Just a record of the arrest and a few crime scene photos. No interview, no _Prior Incantato_ on his wand, and definitely no trial. Small wonder Black had invoked ICW legislation to get himself a trial outside of the country; there was no way he would trust the Ministry to give him a fair trial when the previous administration had thrown him in Azkaban without one and forgotten about him.

The doors on the far side of the room opened, drawing Amelia's attention to the small party entering. She immediately recognised Sirius Black, who looked surprisingly sane for someone who had spent twelve years in the clutches of the Dementors. His appearance was also much improved from the photographs that had been circulated two years prior; life on the run had clearly been good for him. On his left was an unfamiliar middle-aged witch wearing smart robes and carrying a briefcase; Amelia assumed this was his lawyer. On Sirius' right was another unfamiliar wizard, covered head to toe by a long hooded black cloak with two thin symmetrical purple lines going down it. In between Sirius and the hooded stranger…

Amelia blinked for a moment in shock as she recognised the young woman walking between Sirius and the hooded stranger, talking quietly to her godfather. Anyone in Britain would recognise those vibrant green eyes, the famous scar concealed by her fringe. Ivy-Rose Potter. Susan had mentioned that the girl wasn't at Hogwarts and a few of the rumours trying to explain her disappearance, but Amelia hadn't expected to run into her here.

The head of the DMLE had been exceedingly unhappy that both Fudge and Dumbledore had blocked her from interviewing the girl when she returned to Hogwarts with Diggory's body. The child had been kidnapped off school grounds and that needed investigating! Especially since whoever kidnapped her was claiming to be Voldemort reborn! Amelia had offered the services of the DMLE's mind healer, but Dumbledore had turned her down, claiming Ivy was coping fine, which did not sit well with Amelia at all. No child would be fine after seeing someone murdered right in front of them. The girl needed to talk to someone about what happened, someone who understood about survivor's guilt and could help her process what had happened. When Susan had written to tell her that Ivy Potter had not returned to Hogwarts and not even her friends knew where she was Amelia had been extremely concerned, but she couldn't investigate unless Potter was actually declared missing. Seeing her safe and well was a relief.

Black and his lawyer took a seat at the empty table, while Potter and the hooded stranger made their way to the gallery. The new Supreme Mugwump – who would be acting as judge today – entered the room and called the meeting to order. Amelia focused on the opening formalities, pushing her curiosity and questions to the back of her mind.

* * *

Ivy fiddled nervously with the sleeve cuff of her fancy robes – bought specially for today – as the Supreme Mugwump conducted the opening formalities. This was it. Sirius was on trial. By the end of this, her godfather would be free.

"Let the trial of Sirius Orion Black versus the British Ministry of Magic commence. Representative Greengrass of Britain, rise and state your case," the Supreme Mugwump commanded. Ivy idly wondered if the tall white-blonde man who stood was related to Daphne Greengrass in her year before focusing on the trial again.

Mr Greengrass – or was he a Lord? The Greengrass' were nobility, so probably – put forward the Ministry's case, walking them through what was known about the events of October 31st and into November 1st, 1981. He showed them the pictures of the street Sirius had supposedly destroyed and of Pettigrew's neatly severed finger – all magically enlarged so the whole room could see – and read aloud the Auror reports of Sirius' reaction upon being arrested.

"Have you any witnesses to call?" the Supreme Mugwump asked as the prosecution rested their case.

"No, Your Honour," Lord Greengrass replied.

"Very well. Advocate Bonino, rise and state your case," the Supreme Mugwump ordered. Sirius' lawyer rose. Now the true battle began. Ivy crossed her fingers. They had a lot of evidence in their favour, but a little luck wouldn't go amiss.

Mrs Bonino began by questioning the Ministry's evidence. Yes, the photographs were undeniable proof that _something_ had happened, but where was the proof her client had caused it? Where was the record of _Prior Incantato_ showing that the last spell from Mr Black's wand had been a Blasting Curse? Why had that not been carried out when it was standard procedure? If Mr Black _had_ cast a Blasting Curse at Mr Pettigrew, why was there only a single neatly severed finger left? Where were the rest of the pieces? That curse was not a clean one, as the lawyer demonstrated by hitting a pumpkin with the same curse Sirius was alleged to have used, splattering pieces everywhere.

At this point, Lord Greengrass raised his hand. The Supreme Mugwump acknowledged him and allowed him to speak. "You have made a good point, Advocate, but I would ask you this question; what happened to Mr Pettigrew if Mr Black did not kill him?"

"An excellent question, Representative, and one that will be answered shortly. Your Honour, I would like to call Mr Sirius Orion Black to the stand," Mrs Bonino announced. Sirius' imprisonment meant he had been unable to take up his Lordship of House Black, so he wasn't legally a Lord yet despite being magically so. The Supreme Mugwump nodded and gestured for Sirius to take the stand. "My client has requested the use of Veritaserum in this trial, so that the truth may be known," the lawyer informed the court. One of the Aurors – were they even called Aurors here? Something to look into later – stepped forward with a small vial of clear potion and looked to the Supreme Mugwump.

"I am happy allow the use of truth serum in this matter. Administer the potion," The Supreme Mugwump commanded. Three drops of potion where administered.

"What is your name?" Mrs Bonino asked.

"Sirius Orion Black," Sirius replied in a blank monotone.

"Your date of birth?"

"3rd November 1959."

"He is under. I will proceed with questioning." Mrs Bonino asked Sirius outright if he had ever been a Death Eater or sympathiser, which he immediately denied. She then led them once more through the events of October 31st and November 1st,1981. Sirius told the court he had become uneasy that night and had gone to check on Peter. When asked why he had done that, he revealed that Peter Pettigrew had been the Potter's Secret Keeper while Sirius had acted as decoy to protect his friends.

Shocked gasps and whispers came from the press section of the gallery as Mrs Bonino asked Sirius if he knew who had cast the Fidelius Charm over the Potter house. Sirius replied that he didn't know, as he had been away preparing hiding places for Peter when the Charm was cast; neither Lily or James had mentioned who the caster was, and with everything else that was going on Sirius had never thought to ask. Ivy frowned at this information. If one of her parents had cast the Charm, then the fact Sirius was a decoy would have died with them, unless they made a note of it somewhere. If they had asked someone else to cast it, then that person would have known Sirius wasn't the Secret Keeper and couldn't betray her family, and had sat on that information for over a decade. If the latter scenario was the case and Ivy ever found out who had cast the Charm, that person would find themselves at the top of her shit list very quickly.

Her godfather continued his tale of that fateful Halloween. How he had been unable to find Peter at his current hiding place; how he had become panicked, fearing Peter had somehow been found, and headed to Godric's Hollow to evacuate the Potters to the protection of Potter Manor until Peter could be found. Panic becoming horror as he arrived in Godric's Hollow to find the cottage partially destroyed, James dead at the foot of the stairs, Lily in the nursery. Finding Ivy alive, only for Hagrid to take her from him on Dumbledore's orders.

Sirius continued to speak in a potion-induced emotionless tone as he explained how, in his grief at having the people he considered his true family taken from him, he sought to find Peter and get revenge for his betrayal. How he had found and confronted the rat, only for Peter to accuse _him_ of being the traitor and fire off a Blasting Curse behind his back, presumably hitting a gas main, and cut off his finger before transforming into his rat Animagus form and escaping. At that point, Sirius' mind snapped, and he remembered no more until he woke up in Azkaban.

"I have finished questioning the witness, Your Honour," Advocate Bonino said, stepping back from the stand. The Supreme Mugwump nodded and ordered the antidote be given. Ivy desperately wanted to hug her godfather as he made his way back to the table, tears streaming down his face now the potion was no longer supressing his emotions. There would be plenty of time for hugs later.

"What of Pettigrew? We have only Mr Black's words that he is alive and an illegal Animagus. That also begs the question of how Mr Black was aware of this fact," Lord Greengrass asked, having raised his hand and been given permission to speak. Ivy forced down the fury she felt at having her godfather's words questioned. This was a trial, where anything and everything was questioned, even evidence given under the effects of truth serum, and her Cloud instincts really needed to shut up right now.

"I was present when Pettigrew managed the transformation for the first time. He was quite pleased with the skill and eager to show off. I wasn't aware he hadn't registered though," Sirius said before his lawyer could speak, taking advantage of no longer being under truth serum to tell a slightly modified version of the truth. He wasn't about to own up to being an unregistered Animagus and incriminate himself. Lord Greengrass nodded, accepting the explanation.

"As for how we know Pettigrew is alive, I would like to show the court a memory," Mrs Bonino said, pausing while a stone bowl and a metal tripod with a crystal in the top were set up on a new table.

"What's that?" Ivy whispered to Mammon as they set up.

"The stone bowl is a pensieve, a device used to view memories. The tripod is a magical projector, allowing the memories in the pensieve to be more easily viewed by multiple parties," Mammon explained. Ivy nodded in thanks. Since Mammon had given that information in their capacity as her magical guardian they wouldn't charge her for it.

Mrs Bonino held up a crystal vial with a familiar silvery substance in it; the copy of Ivy's memory of that night in the Shrieking Shack. "This memory was provided voluntarily by Miss Ivy-Rose Dorea Potter. It has been verified by law enforcement officials as untampered." The lawyer poured the memory mist into the bowl. Ivy watched fascinated as the memory played out in court. Had she really been that skinny?

Once they had seen the part where Scabbers the rat was revealed to be Peter Pettigrew, Mrs Bonino ended the viewing. "Does this satisfy your curiosity, Representative?"

Lord Greengrass nodded. "It does." He sat back down next to the witch Sirius had earlier identified as Madam Bones of the DMLE, who looked like she wanted to hex somebody. Possibly several somebodies.

"Are there any further questions or evidence to be presented?" the Supreme Mugwump asked. Both parties shook their heads. "Then I shall call the vote. All who find the accused innocent of the murder of thirteen non-magicals and membership of a terrorist organisation, light your wands white. All who find him guilty, light your wands red." The room lit up overwhelmingly white. There was a brief pause as the votes were counted. "The vote is clear. I find Sirius Orion Black to be innocent of all charges. I hereby award him compensation for false imprisonment of 200,000 galleons, to be paid by the British Ministry of Magic. There shall be no punishment for escaping Azkaban, as he was unjustly held there without trial. I also order the British Ministry of Magic to launch a full investigation into this severe miscarriage of justice. So mote it be!" He banged his gavel down.

Giving up on all pretence of propriety, Ivy leapt the barrier separating the public gallery from the rest of the chamber and ran over to hug her godfather. He hugged her back fiercely, a free man for the first time in fourteen years. Both of them made a point of ignoring the camera flashes and the clamouring of the press looking for a quote. Her godfather was finally free.

Ivy eventually pulled back and turned to Mrs Bonino, who was smiling at them. "Thank you," Ivy said gratefully, a huge smile on her face.

"You're welcome, _signorina_. You're both very welcome," the lawyer replied, her own smile widening.

"Congratulations on your freedom, Mr Black. Or should that be Lord Black?" a male voice asked from behind her. Ivy turned the other way to see Lord Greengrass and Madam Bones approaching.

"Thank you, Lord Greengrass. And it will be Lord Black as soon as I can get to Gringotts," Sirius replied. They had had a long talk about whether Sirius wanted to formally take up the Black Lordship and he had eventually decided he would. He would be able to wield his family's power for a better purpose than pureblood supremacy, and he could do something about the Daily Prophet's constant slandering of his goddaughter that annoyed him no end. Ivy was perfectly happy to let him; she could always ask Mammon to sue them if Lord Black's threats proved insufficient motive to change their ways.

"Mr Black, Miss Potter, might I have a brief word with you before you leave? There are several matters I would like to discuss," Madam Bones asked. Ivy tensed; she had nothing against the woman personally, but she didn't trust the Ministry as far as Luna could throw Hagrid without magic. She shifted out of her godfather's arms and into a more subtly protective stance.

"Madam Bones is trustworthy, Ivy; I knew her for years before Azkaban and I trust her. I think it would be worth hearing her out," Sirius assured her, tone completely serious, correctly guessing what her issue was. Ivy thought for a moment. Sirius had never lied to her and he didn't trust easily; they were very alike that way. If he trusted this Ministry witch then perhaps it would be worth speaking with her.

"Alright," she conceded. "If you're willing to trust them then I'll trust you." She suspected Madam Bones wanted to talk about the night in the graveyard; if so, Ivy would oblige. If she worded it right then the Ministry would be somewhat prepared when Voldemort broke cover, which was better than not being prepared at all. She didn't want innocent people to die because nobody took the threat seriously.

"I will join you; Miss Potter is currently my ward and I am responsible for her safety," Mammon said, standing on Ivy's other side, making her relax a little.

Madam Bones nodded, "Very well. Shall we find somewhere quiet to talk?"

"You seem to have forgotten about the pack of reporters waiting to pounce the moment we leave the room," Sirius reminded them.

"Don't remind me," Madam Bones complained, squaring her shoulders. "Let's get this over with then."

The group made their way towards the doors, Sirius' arm wrapped around Ivy's shoulders. Ivy smiled as they reached the doors, camera bulbs flashing as reporters shouted questions. Her godfather was finally a free man and not even a bunch of nosy reporters could ruin her good mood.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was not in a good mood. In fact, his mood was positively foul. He had been in a bad mood since before Christmas, when he had sent his beloved Nagini to investigate the security in the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort had been monitoring her progress via their Horcrux connection, scheming gleefully at the lack of security, when that red-haired blood traitor had ruined it all. Nagini had tried to prevent him raising the alarm, then tried to flee when the Unspeakables appeared, but she had been unable to escape. The backlash from their connection severing on her death had been brutal and painful. Voldemort had spent the following week casting the Cruciatus on any fool stupid enough to come near him. Losing his familiar and Horcrux had been infuriating.

Losing one Horcrux had turned his thoughts to the others. He already knew the diary was long gone – Lucius had suffered dearly for throwing it away on petty revenge – but surely the others were safe. He had not felt anything to indicate they might have been found and destroyed. He hadn't felt anything when the diary was destroyed, but that was likely due to being a wraith at the time. The cup was in Bellatrix's vault in Gringotts, so that one was definitely safe. The diadem was deep within the hidden room at Hogwarts that only he had known about. Nobody knew about the cave where the locket was hidden, so it was probably the safest of the lot; only Dumbledore had known the truth of his past, and Voldemort had burnt the blasted orphanage to the ground after graduating Hogwarts, so there were no records to find. The ring could potentially be at risk – he had not made much of a secret of having Gaunt heritage after he discovered it – but he had checked the protections while staying at Riddle Manor the previous year and had found them in good shape.

He had half a mind to visit the two locations he could access but decided against it. He was reluctant to risk discovery while his plans were progressing so nicely under the nose of the ignorant Ministry.

A knock at the door drew him from his thoughts. He flicked his wand to open it, revealing Alecto Carrow with his morning newspaper.

"Your Daily Prophet, my Lord," Alecto said, managing to keep her voice somewhat steady despite her obvious nerves. His latest snit had his Death Eaters walking on eggshells around him, lest they become his next victim. It was actually quite enjoyable.

"Put it on the table and leave," Voldemort commanded, watching as Carrow scurried forward with the paper held like a shield. She placed the paper on the table, bowed, and fled as fast as her feet could carry her. Voldemort flicked his wand to shut the door again, chuckling quietly. It was so much fun to watch the purebloods scurry around like frightened mice. He walked over and glanced at the headline.

SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT!

Voldemort picked up the paper and settled into a plush armchair. He had some time until the next round of reports was due, and this story looked rather interesting.


End file.
